A Collection of Shorts
by superzombiedestroyer123
Summary: Hey all! Basically, I have a bunch of prompts and a new obsession: Bellamione! This is a dumping ground for all Bellamione short stories I would like to write. If you have any prompts you'd like written, feel free to drop me a dm!
1. The Seeker and the Writer

**Hey all! So recently, I've gotten really deeply into Harry Potter again, which is exciting! It's amazing do know that a book series that started around 20 years ago is still popular, while so many more have fizzled out. Anyways, I wanted to get back into writing, and not have to undertake the commitment of a long story. This will jus be a collection of stories based on prompts that I've found. I hope you enjoy!**

 **!**

Hermione could barely suppress the groan that threatened to escape as she sat in the Slytherin common room, feeling like a lamb lead to slaughter by the looks of the eyes watching her. Nobody spoke, and the only audible noise was the soft crackling of the fire next to her place on one of the chairs set up in the room. She didn't need to delve into any of the students' minds to know that they all thought the same thing.

 _Mudblood._

 _You don't belong here._

 _Filth._

 _Scum._

Her companion, one Bellatrix Black, sat across from her, looking as amused as ever by the stares. Or maybe she just loved watching the mudblood squirm. Either way, Hermione would love to wipe that smirk off her face, interview be damned. The youngest black was no better than her housemates, and the student reporter held on to that fact like a lifeline.

No matter how charming Bellatrix Black, seeker of the undefeated Slytherin quidditch team and top of her class, could be, she was just like the others. They valued blood and ancient family trees above everything else, no matter who the witch or wizard may be.

Eventually, however, the Slytherin could tell the unwanted company was making the Gryffindor uncomfortable, though she'd never admit to it, stubborn little witch that she was. Bella sent the rest of the Slytherin's out with a wave of her hand and a well placed glare. They knew better than to get on her bad side after seeing how well she could wield a particularly nasty hex, one that made the target completely boneless.

Hermione seemed to relax as the last of the house filed away to their dorms, and turned her attention back to Bellatrix, her quill and notepad ready.

"So, Miss Black, how does it feel being the only woman on the Slytherin quidditch team?" She asked, refusing to look away from the dark eyes fixed on her. It felt like a challenge, one that she would not back down from.

Truthfully, she'd rather be anywhere else. As the head writer for the school's newspaper, The Hogwarts Herald, Hermione was hoping that she would be spared of the boredom that was quidditch. Blame it on being a muggleborn, but she never truly understood the appeal.

However, Professor McGonagall tasked the brunette witch with writing this story, and Hermione was not one to let down a professor. Least of all the one in charge of her house.

"No time for pleasantries, eh?" Bellatrix smirked, leaning back in her chair and sipping her tea. She'd conjured a black tea set after leading Hermione into the common room for her interview.

Truthfully, the seeker had no idea what to make of it. It was just yesterday that Hermione had approached her, and things were already off to a bad start.

 **!**

 _"Bellatrix?" Hermione called out from the edge of the quidditch pitch._

 _It was the end of the day, and Rodolphus had, on a whim, called a quidditch practice. Bella's arms ached at the memory; they'd been out here for hours practicing, simply because Lestrange wanted to ensure a victory over Hufflepuff the following week._

 _Upon hearing her name, Bellatrix slipped away from the end of practice huddle and floated down to the ground. She dismounted her broom and let it trail behind her as she walked towards the muggleborn._

 _"Hermione, is it?" She asked, her signature smirk falling into place. While it was a shame she wasn't wearing one of her corsets, she was glad she was wearing her uniform, at least._

 _After all, didn't women love someone in a uniform?_

 _"Err. Yes." Hermione didn't expect the older witch to know her name, being both two years younger and a 'mudblood'. It was a surprise, but not necessarily a bad one._

 _"To what do I owe the honor?" Bellatrix motioned for Hermione to follow her as she headed back towards the castle. If the rest of her team saw Hermione, the jeers and taunts would be enough to scare her away without Bella ever getting a chance._

 _Hesitantly, Hermione followed after, casting a quick glance at the other Slytherin's, who were still too caught up in their huddle to speak._

 _"The Slytherin's are on a winning streak that they haven't seen since Sirius graduated, and many believe that they have you to thank for it."_

 _Bellatrix tried not to cringe at the sound of her older cousin's name being spoken. He was a twit. He really was._

 _"People will always talk. Whether or not it is true is for the listeners to decide." She replied evenly._

 _In all actuality, it was due heavily to Bellatrix's adeptness with her broom that the Slytherin's were winning. She even outmaneuvered Potter in the last match, snatching the snitch from him just as his fingers were about to close around it. It was a close game, but Bellatrix pulled it off._

 _"Regardless, your teammates acknowledge you as their 'good luck charm'." Hermione pointed out. "So I was wondering..."_

 _"I am completely free if you wanted to grab dinner at Hogsmeade, yes." Bellatrix couldn't help but slide in, just to see if she could fluster the girl._

 _And fluster she did. Hermione's cheeks turned a bright pink, and she couldn't make eye contact for a solid moment or two. When she spoke, it was very carefully devoid of any emotion._

 _"That wasn't my question. I wanted to interview you for the paper."_

 _Bellatrix was taken back. She knew that she was a good player, but she was never the one interviewed. It was always the team captain, Rodolphus, who would spend the entire time spouting bullshit about how 'Slytherin rightly deserves the cup' and 'It was made for purebloods'._

 _Personally, Bellatrix used to be very against any sort of mudblood learning magic. However, after coming to Hogwarts and seeing how the muggleborns worked twice as hard for half the credit, she wasn't sure._

 _"Well, I would love to, Miss Granger."_

 **!**

"To answer your question, madame, it's just fine. I have no reasons to complain; my teammates see me as 'one of the guys'." She replied, which wasn't completely untrue. Many of her teammates, like Draco, Crabbe And Goyle, saw her as an equal, though perhaps it was because Draco was her nephew.

Others, like Rodolphus, simply saw her as a vagina with legs, and did his best to leer at her in a way she was sure he thought was 'flirting', or to make sure that we knew her place.

After a particularly nasty fight, however, Bellatrix took care of that. She wasn't saying she tortured him, but she could safely say that a simple Muffliato could go a long way.

"So there's no sorts of animosity, or different treatment that you might get?" Hermione pressed. She knew it was different, being a woman herself, but she wanted to know if Bellatrix would admit this defeat.

"None." She said smoothly. "They acknowledge that I have gotten to where I am by putting in twice the effort, and they respect me for it. Not all Slytherins are misogynistic, you know."

Hermione furiously scribbled the answer down on paper before attempting to continue. However, she was stopped when her subject put a hand up.

"If you're to interview me, I want this o go both ways." The pale witch said.

Hermione's quill paused, and she looked up.

"You want to know about me? Why?"

Bellatrix shrugged. "Call it a fascination."

Granger gently placed her quill on the notepad, and neatly laced her fingers together.

"Fire away, Miss Black."

 **!**

The two witches talked for hours, well into the evening. Slytherins came and went, shooting Hermione a dark look before Bellatrix 'coerced' them away from the two.

They talked about anything and everything, from life, their parents, their dreams, anything that came to mind.

Eventually, the topic landed on the tensions between purebloods and muggleborns.

"So where is your stance on this?" Bellatrix spoke evenly, taking a sip of her tea.

Hermione chose her words carefully. She had been having fun with the Slytherin, and couldn't remember a time where she had a conversation with someone who could keep up.

"Truthfully? I don't understand it. It's a lot like racism and homophobia. Why do people hate those who cannot change the part about them self most hated?" She replied.

"Furthermore, I think a true test of who a witch or wizard is shouldn't be from some old bloodline that takes years of tracing to figure out, but who they are as a person. It shouldn't matter who their parents were, or their grandparents, or their line. It should only matter what they believe in, and what they choose to do with their lives."

Bellatrix stirred her tea passively. "Spoken like a true Gryffindor." She said simply.

A moment of silence filled the room, as the two witches engaged in a silent stalemate with one another, neither one wanting to be the one that broke.

Eventually, Hermione gave in, wanting to see if she'd lost a friend she'd scarcely had with her words. "And you?"

Bella finished her tea and set it aside, and with a flick of her wand, the set disappeared.

"To be quite honest, entering into Hogwarts, I was the epitome of pureblood posh, as I've come to deem it." She chuckled, thinking back to her first year. It was a wonder that she didn't drown when it rained, with how high in the air she stuck her nose.

"But, after being in this school for seven years, and seeing the work that muggleborns do? It shook the very foundation of what I grew up on. I was always taught that I would need to marry another pureblood, or else my children would have weak, inferior mudblood magic. But seeing how far a muggleborn can come, seeing just how strong they are without the protection that being a pureblood gives, showed me that what I was told was a lie. That those born of muggle parents are just as capable of wizards and witches as those born of magical parents. A mage is a mage, no matter the lineage."She looked to Hermione, an unreadable expression on her face.

The writer was in shock. She'd heard horror stories about the bullying the Slytherins did to muggleborns, hell, she'd been on the receiving end of quite a few taunts and jeers because of it. So, hearing in person perhaps the most respected and feared member of the house going against everything it seemed to stand for?

It was a shocker, to be honest.

"Did I pass?" Bellatrix's voice called out, snapping Hermione from her thoughts.

"Pass?" She asked.

"Was this a trial? I was hoping to pass, if so. I hear the reward's pretty nice." Bellatrix smiled, not we signature smirk, a genuine smile that made Hermione's heart skip a beat.

"Oh? And what did you hear this reward was?" Hermione asked, a smile of her own forming, though her eyes held a mischievous glint to them.

"A beautiful female companion to accompany me to Hogsmeade tomorrow?" The seeker asked, playing innocent.

Hermione pretended to give it a thought, dramatically tapping her chin as she did so.

"I suppose... _if_ you're willing to buy that beautiful females companion a butterbeer..."

Bellatrix's face broke into a full grin. "It would be an honor, Miss Granger."

 **!**

 **Prompt: Person A is part of their school's newspaper and is currently writing an article on the school's (insert sport of your choice) team. Person B is the star athlete and volunteers for A to interview them. As A asks B questions related to their team, etc. they get off topic and begin to talks about other things (your choice).**

 **Thanks for reading! Truthfully, I haven't gotten much sleep, and I'm not quite happy with how this turned out. I feel like there could've been more detail, but what can ya do ¯\\_(** **ツ** **)_/¯**

 **I'd love to get your feedback, so reviews are more than welcome!**

 **I'll leave you with a quick question: do you truly think Bellatrix, one of the greatest witches of her age and one of the best duelers in the wizarding world, could have died by Mrs. Weasley's hands?**

 **Thanks again!**

 **-Z**


	2. Soulmate AU

**Hello again! I didn't think I was going to have the time to write another chapter, since my brother finally had his baby (cutest little shit in the world), but I'm currently snowed in and babyless. So, like it or not, here's another story!**

 **P.S. Just to make sure you're aware,**

 _ **Bold italics**_ **indicates communication via writing on the skin (it'll make sense in a sec I promise).**

 _Underlined italics_ **indicate a thought.**

 _Regular italics_ **indicate a flashback**

 **Not even sure if I'll use all three, but I want my bases covered if I do. Who reads author's notes anyways, amiright? ¯\\_(** **ツ** **)_/¯**

 **!**

Hermione had never heard of people actually having soulmates, not until she found herself to be a witch.

Even then, none of this was explained to her until her second year at Hogwarts, where one Ron Weasley seemed disappointed that when he drew on his arm with his quill, the same mark did not appear on Hermione's.

It was then she found out about this "soulmate" nonsense. Apparently, one unit of raw magic is so powerful that it cannot be contained within a single vessel. So, the powers that be dictated that these units be split up into pairs. The pairs, used to being whole, would seek out and sense their other half. The only problem was that they were bound within these vessels, creatures with magical inclinations, and these vessels were flawed. Instead of being able to go to their other half, the magic would have to leave a sort of hint for the vessel, and would match the marks that the other half of the unit would have on their vessel, in the hopes that the dim witted thing it was inside of figured it out.

Young Hermione thought this was a load of hogwash. Even if it were, how was she going to find them? Would they draw her a map? Write coordinates? Would they even speak the same language? Even then, just because their magic is in sync doesn't have to mean that they're compatible, right? Poppycock. It was the stuff of Disney fairytales, and she'd sooner believe there were aliens living on the moon.

So, the young witch continued to think nothing of it. Not until her fifth year Potions class, where it was finally undeniable. Where she'd met _her._

 **!**

 _Hermione was just adding the finishing touches to the Pepperup Potion they were assigned. It was a fairly easy potion to make, but she figured Snape had them make it to resupply Madame Pomfrey, since everyone seemed to be coming down with a cold. The cauldron in front of her bubbled happily, and the liquid inside was a bright amber hue._

 _She was about to add her last bit of ground bicorn horn when something on her wrist caught her eye._

 _There, written in careful black calligraphy, was one simple word._

 _ **"Hello?"**_

 _Well, that does it,_ _Hermione thought to herself._ _I've officially gone mad._

 _Nevertheless, the bright witch finished her potion and was excused from the rest of class for finishing the assignment by a begrudged-looking Snape. Once out, she made a beeline for the Gryffindor common room._

 _As the Fat Lady swung closed, she breathed a small sigh of relief that she had the room to herself. Hermione stashed all of her books in her trunk by the foot of her bed, and pulled out a fresh quill and an unopened pot of ink. She made her way back to the common room, quill and ink in hand._

 _Sitting in the corner by the window, Hermione hesitantly dipped her quill into the ink pot and responded._

 _"_ _ **Err, hi?"**_

 _A few moments past, with Hermione practically holding her breath._

 _Nothing._

 _She scoffed. One of her pigheaded friends must've written it on her wrist, or charmed her while she wasn't paying attention. She'd find out which one of them did it, and hex them into next week._

 _ **"Hello."**_

 _She'd seen the words appear as if another person were writing on her skin. Her mouth fell open, and she felt her brain begin to short circuit. The witch watched as the words began to disappear, as if that same person were washing them off to save room. She, too, cleaned off her arm and started over._

 _ **"So I take it you're my soulmate?"**_

 _A simple enough question, but one that Hermione still had a hard time wrapping her brain around._

 _ **"You would be correct. Your name, if I may?"**_

 _ **"Hermione. And yours?"**_

 _ **"Bellatrix."**_

 **!**

From then on, they 'talked' back and forth for two years. Hermione found out that Bellatrix had graduated from Hogwarts three years before Hermione started, making her ten years older than her. She was from London, but was currently seeing to what she called "family affairs" in France. Whenever Hermione asked what that meant, Bellatrix would simply tell her it was boring politics that she could fill books about, and she'd spare Hermione the lecture.

Hermione explained all the scars that would show up on Bellatrix's skin, which the with explained only showed up when and if they went from wounds to scars. Hermione had quite a few: like the scar on her hip from where she and her friends found that the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was killing innocent unicorns in a sick quest for power, and stopped him. She'd gotten a nasty wound from the knife he used before Harry managed to knock him out, which took days to heal since it was poisoned. She explained the fang mark on her thigh from the basilisk someone had decided to set free in the chambers under the school, where she would've died if Fawkes hadn't cried into her wound, or the talon slashes on her shoulder from Buckbeak getting a little too friendly.

In return, Hermione had gotten Bellatrix to open up. Bella didn't have any big scars, owing that to good dueling skills and a rather sheltered life outside of Hogwarts. She explained that if her father became angry with her or her two sisters, he'd use the cruciatus curse to keep them in line.

When Hermione argued that the curse was illegal, Bella responded with, _**"Well, pet, the Ministry turns a blind eye to those of pureblood descent 'disciplining' their offspring."**_

She'd also explained that she, like Hermione, was skeptical of this whole soulmate business. But she found that she was curious, since her younger sister had claimed the muggleborn she'd run off with was her soulmate. She didn't seem to mind when Hermione told her she was a muggleborn, which made the younger witch breathe a sigh of relief. Bellatrix said that the old, outdated ways were still alive in many pureblood families, and marrying a mudblood, soulmate or not, was seen as a stain on the family's name; a waste of good magic on a subpar mage. It was less frowned upon to marry one's own sibling, if it meant the pure line was preserved.

But more than anything, Hermione felt a connection. She felt that she could have intelligent conversations with Bellatrix that she couldn't with her classmates. The questions that would cause Harry's eyes to glaze over and would give Ron a constipated look would have Bellatrix filling any clear patch of skin with her theories and musings.

Try as she might, Hermione found herself looking forward to the next message she'd get, or what she would learn in the next few hours. For Merlin's sake; she'd never met the woman in person, yet in her last two years, Bellatrix dominated most of the younger witch's thoughts! Hermione found herself falling for a woman she'd never met, and she'd spend hours daydreaming about their meeting; how would Bellatrix look, would it be awkward, or would they pick up a conversation easily, and the like.

Which is why what Bellatrix said to her last hurt so badly.

It made no sense to Hermione; everything seemed to be fine until she'd gotten a random message in the early hours of the morning, her first one spent graduated from Hogwarts. She had planned on taking a train that day to France to see Bellatrix for the first time, so surprise her, but she now knew that that was the last thing her soulmate would want.

 _ **"Did you really think I would ever want to be with someone who has blood as filthy as yours? Leave me in peace, mudblood."**_

 _ **Seven months later...**_

It started off as a normal day, with Hermione waking up and checking if there was any word from Bellatrix. She felt a bit off, sore around her neck and chest, but she ignored it in favor of her arms, which remained blank.

Sighing, Hermione walked to her bathroom to get ready for her first day of work. After Hogwarts, she'd had the grades to work anywhere she wanted. Instead of becoming an Auror like Ron, or a quidditch star like Harry, she'd opted for a more creature friendly approach. She started today in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and was already campaigning for a sub department, the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. Her training was grueling, but in the end, satisfying.

She stepped out of the shower, her hair wrapped up in a towel, and looked at herself in the mirror. Her heart immediately dropped.

Her neck and chest were covered with bruises. Bruises that weren't there when she went to bed last night.

No. Not bruises.

Hickies.

Her left hand ran across them, as if she could will them away with a touch. That's when the ring indentation caught her eye.

 _She..._

 _She got married..._

It hurt; Hermione couldn't lie. It felt as if she were a child, and her parents had bought her a puppy, only to rip it from her hands because she had cut her hair.

Only so much different, because it was destiny, right? It was supposed to be destiny that kept her with that puppy. That's how it was supposed to work.

But no, because she had done something so much worse than a simple hair cut. She'd been born to muggles. She was a disgrace, a magic thief, at least to those who had pure blood.

Hermione fought back tears that had threatened to fall. How dare she be a muggleborn, right? How dare she be born something she couldn't control, something she didn't ask for, and choose to live her life instead of throwing herself off the nearest bridge.

The young witch thought that Bella didn't care about her blood status. But it seemed like Bellatrix did, and she was disgusted. Love? Don't make her laugh. Completely off the table; it's impossible to love a mudblood.

 _ **"I saw the...marks, but I'm assuming you knew I would. Maybe that was the point; suffice to say I've been clinging on to some hope that you'd change your mind, but I see now that will not be the case. I see now that you've found your happiness. Goodbye, Bellatrix."**_

And with that, Hermione felt a wave of numbness wash over her. It was more practical, even if she was technically filing her emotions into an unmarked corner of her brain.

She had to, anyways, she told herself as she mechanically charmed her neck to hide the marks. She had to go to work.

The young with dressed in a button up blouse and black pants, grabbed her cloak, and apparated as close to the ministry as she could.

 **!**

Hermione was led into her new office by a friendly older witch, one who bore a striking resemblance to Mrs. Clause.

"And here you are, sweetie!" She said cheerfully, and left her alone to settle in.

It was just like every other office: small, but surprisingly cozy. Maybe it was because it was finally a space that Hermione owned all on her own. She still lives with her parents, but she'd bought her first flat a few days ago and decided to move in after her first day of work.

The young witch stored all of the office supplies she thought she'd need at her desk, then sat. Truthfully, she had no idea what her job would entail, as she'd seen people in her department back in her fourth year, monitoring the care of the creatures used, as well as people today just filing report after report.

Hermione hoped this job wouldn't be just another monotonous waste of time. She wanted something she could lose herself in, something she could forget in.

As she looked through her open door, she noticed she had a neighbor across the hall. A woman: tall, and pale, with a gorgeous figure accented by her corset, and thick, curly black hair, who seemed to be having trouble with the lock on her door. Her back faced Hermione's office doorway.

She thought for a moment. _Maybe this woman could help me move on. Even if that's not the case, it'd be nice to make friends here._

Hermione got up and headed over, straightening her blouse as she did so.

"Do you need some help, ma'am?" She asked politely. The woman turned, and the brunette found herself having trouble not staring.

She was entrancing. Her hair perfectly framed her face in a messy look that Hermione wished she could make hers recreate. Her skin was an alluring alabaster color, making her red lipstick a stark contrast that wasn't unappealing. She had piercing dark eyes, ones that Hermione was sure could be intimidating, but she found herself getting lost in.

"It seems I do." The woman replied, smiling at the newer girl. "I always find myself locked out of my office, with my wand inside. I swear, I think that damned poltergeist followed me from Hogwarts sometimes."

Hermione laughed as she pulled her wand out, back in the moment. "Peeves was always up to trouble, no matter who was around. He always seemed to have it out for the quidditch players, though."

She unlocked the door with a flick of her wand, and turned back to the woman.

"Well, it's open for you. If you need anything else, I'm right across the hall."

"Oh, that's who they were moving in to that old office!" The woman exclaimed, her face brightening. "I should be telling you that. If you need help finding your way around, I'll be here a few more hours before my husband comes round for lunch. Would you like to join us?"

Hermione nodded. "I appreciate that Miss...?"

"Lestrange. Bellatrix Lestrange. I'm the Head Auror. Pleased to meet you. And you are?"

It was as if a cold bucket of water was dumped on Hermione's head. She fought to keep the smile on her face, though it probably looked pained.

"I believe I have plans already for lunch, Madame, but thank you for the invite."

She turned on her heel and walked back into her office, closing the door behind her.

Bellatrix watched the woman leave, confused, until she read the name and title on the door.

 _ **Hermione Granger**_

 _ **Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures**_

 **!**

 _Does the ministry outlaw the killing curse if you use it on yourself?_

Hermione found herself asking that more than once throughout the day. Her head was on her desk, and she debated whether or not to take an early lunch break and call in sick the rest of the day. She was sure the other witch knew her name by now, as it was printed neatly on her now closed door.

 _Why did she have to be the Head Auror? And why does her office have to be right across from mine? And why couldn't she have looked like a troll?_

The young witch just wanted the day to be over, so she could go home and down a bottle of firewhiskey, or something equally as depressing. Her heart felt battered and bruised, and she hadn't even given herself time to cope with the loss before coming to work, only to run into the woman of her dreams, and the monster of her nightmares.

Lestrange. It was French.

 _Guess I found out what "family matters" she had to attend to_ , Hermione thought. _I wonder if she ever cared, or if I was just a way to pass the time until their marriage._

A knock on her door made her sit up from where she laid her head on her desk and compose herself. She still had a job to do.

"Come in!" She called in a voice that sounded too cheery to be happy. She pretended to shuffle some papers on her desk as the person entered and shut the door.

"Granger." Bellatrix entered, and the fake smile Hermione had plastered on crumbled. She looked up, and found that Bellatrix's face was a mask, devoid of emotion.

"Lestrange." She said back, her voice equally drained of emotion.

"The minister insists that I am to bring someone from your department round to make sure the aurors in training know the basics of creature care in case they come upon one in the field."

Hermione had plenty of questions. _Why not just grab a different person from the same department? Why talk to the one person whose heart you ripped out and tore apart?_

Maybe not plenty. Maybe just two. But they were good questions. Maybe this was a game to the other witch. Maybe this was to try to make her quit, or request her office to be changed. That would make things easier for Bellatrix, right?

 _Mother might have raised a mudblood, Bella, but she did not raise a bitch. And I will not go away just because you're reminded that your soulmate isn't pure._

"Let me grab my cloak."

 **!**

They apparated to the training grounds, which was an awkward affair in itself, since Hermione had no idea where that was, so she had to take hold of Bellatrix's arm.

Even though it was stiff, her arm was warm, and the younger witch felt that warmth even when she'd stepped away.

They were in the middle of a large field, with the grass cleared away and training dummies set up in different areas for different exercises. There were stables off in the distance, and that's where she assumed some of the creatures for today were housed.

"Right. A quick run through of some basics, stick around to watch the execution, and then you can leave." Bellatrix instructed, sounding as disinterested as ever.

Hermione gave a nod, and was about to say more when she felt herself lifted off the ground.

"'Mione!" The person holding her exclaimed. She broke into her first real smile in a while, and hugged Ron when he put her down. They hadn't seen each other since graduating Hogwarts, since they were both lost in training for their respective jobs.

"I haven't seen you in ages, Ron! I take it training's going well?" She asked, genuinely interested.

Ever since that incident in their second year, Ron became more like a brother to her, and she was glad to see him, especially on one of the worst days of her life.

"Yeah! I've got a few more weeks, then I'm official." He stepped back to give her some room.

Ron's hair was slightly longer than it was in school, and she was sure it was irritating having to brush it out of his face every few moments. He wore what the rest of the trainees wore: a simple black t-shirt, shorts, and running shoes.

"We haven't had time to catch up, you know," she began. "Are you up for drinks when you get off?"

His face lit up. "Yeah! Just meet me here when you're free and we'll hea-"

"Weasley." Bellatrix said, her voice commanding attention. She seemed angry, though Hermione didn't know why. She assumed it was because they were completely ignoring her.

"Is there a reason you've left your training to assault Miss Granger?" She asked.

He cleared his throat. "Well, ma'am, Hermione and I were in the same year at Hogwarts. She's one of my best friends, and I haven't seen her in a while. Guess I just got a little too excited."

Bellatrix nodded, as if mulling the answer over. "I see. Well, you won't be joining her for drinks tonight, I'm afraid. You'll be spending the rest of the evening cleaning up the mess the creatures are bound to make."

Ron's face dropped, and Hermione stepped in. She wouldn't allow Bellatrix to torture her friend while she was around.

"Don't worry, mate. I'll come by after work and help you. It shouldn't take long with two people, and you can help me move into my new flat. There's a bottle of firewhiskey in it for you if you do."

Whether it was the fact he'd be able to spend more time with Hermione, or the free booze, Ron's face brightened again. Hermione looked to Bellatrix, as if daring her to say something. She couldn't touch her; they were in different departments.

"Absolutely." He looked like he wanted to say more, but Bellatrix was currently trying to burn a hole into his head, so he wandered off. Bellatrix and Hermione continued walking towards the recruits, tension apparent around them.

"Any more of my men you'd like to charm into coming back to your flat?" The head Auror asked after a few moments of silence.

That comment stung. But Hermione knew she was trying to get a rise out of her, so she put on her best smirk and started walking towards the trainees.

"Only the ones that don't mind laying with filth, Mrs. _Lestrange._ "

 **!**

A fourth year at Hogwarts could've taught these Aurors about the animals they brought out.

Granted, it was mostly animals that they'd find in houses and rich estates, so they didn't need to know that a Barvarian Basilisk is completely powerless on the full moon, but Hermione had that information, should the need arise.

"Now, some of you might be wondering why I'm gesturing towards thin air." Hermione said to the group of up and coming aurors. Many, like Ron, looked fresh out of Hogwarts, while others seemed more haggard and older. A few looked confused, and she could tell they couldn't see her friend standing next to her.

"I am not, and you're going to have to trust me on this." She looked towards the beast in question.

It had a skeletal body, in the shape of a horse, with reptilian facial features and large, batlike wings.

"This, for those of you who can see it, is a thestral. Don't be deterred if you cannot; count yourself lucky, in fact. A thestral can only be seen by those who have witnessed death and accepted it for what it is."

As if sensing that he was being talked about, the thestral let out a huff, sounding like a cross between a snake's hiss and a horse's neigh.

She stroked its back lovingly. "I doubt you will find many, as it is discouraged, or illegal in some places, to breed these creatures. However, they are drawn to the scent of blood, and any particularly gruesome murder is bound to turn a few thestral heads. That, and the fact that their tail hairs create some of the more powerful wands, which can only be used by those who are capable of facing death."

Some of her audience seemed enthralled, while some just seemed bored. Bellatrix, who stood ten or so paces away from Hermione, just stared.

"The biggest thing to note is that a thestral can sense your presence, just like you can sense a thestral's. Do you wonder why it's gotten so calm in the last few moments? That's due to my friend here. Thestrals are generally calm and docile creatures. They are extremely intelligent, so I would not recommend trying to trap or outsmart it. Many, including those who have been domesticated, and some who are wild, can understand languages, so talking to them definitely helps."

"Lastly, as I said before, they can sense your presence. They can also sense your fear. You don't need to be afraid of a thestral, as long as you don't mean it any harm. They're probably more afraid of you than you are of them."

The thestral gave what sounded like an indignant hiss at that, which put a smile on Hermione's face.

"Other than that, they usually travel in herds, so if you see or feel one, there's probably more around. If you happen to encounter one, consider yourself lucky that it wasn't something much worse, and contact the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures immediately."

She turned to the thestral. "I appreciate you being here, my friend. Could you make your way back to the stables? I hear Bridgett's got a steak waiting for you."

The thestral gave a full roar, sounding like a monstrous predatory bird, and was gone with a flap of its powerful wings.

Some of the aurors looked shaken by this creature, while many more seemed more interested than before.

"Don't worry, he'll come back in a bit with some friends that you can all get acquainted with. For now, let's talk Boggarts."

 **!**

The training session went fairly well, with many aurors getting used to the common magical creatures they may see in the field. It was good practice for them, and a good way for Hermione to show Bellatrix that she belonged, ex-soulmate or not.

Speaking of which, the woman had gone missing, to which Hermione assumed she was off having lunch with her husband.

No worries. Hermione got Ron to show her back to her office, where they talked plans for that night by her door.

He had just left when Bellatrix came out, out of breath and red in the face. She swore there was a bit of blood on her dress, but she couldn't be sure.

"I take it lunch went better than expected?" Hermione tossed over her shoulder as she walked into her office and closed the door. Maybe it was petty, but Hermione deserved to be bitter for a little while.

She looked to her desk, only to find a pile of paperwork to do. The witch wasn't put off by this; that morning had gone so well after Bellatrix left she was still glowing.

As Hermione settled in to finish up, she heard Bellatrix's office door open and slam shut, followed by heavy footsteps walking away.

 **!**

"Hermione."

Her body stiffened as she heard her office door open and close. She checked the clock on her desk and was surprised it was almost time to go.

"I'd appreciate it if you called me by my last name while we're at work, Mrs. Lestrange." She said cordially, dropping her pen and pressing the heel of her palms into her eyes.

 _You lost the privilege of calling me Hermione when you slept with your husband and left me to find out in such a callous way._

"Hermione," Bellatrix stepped further into her office, completely ignoring her request. "We need to talk."

The other witch stood and began sorting her paperwork with a sigh. She focused on it as she began to speak.

"Yes, Mrs. Lestrange? How can I help you right now? It's the end of the day and I'd like to go help my friend, who was given cleaning duty, as you'll recall."

"We need to talk about what happened." Hermione froze momentarily before she could stop herself, trying to cover it by pretending to look for something. Finally, she stopped, and looked at the older witch.

"I don't believe there's anything to talk about, _Mrs. Lestrange._ You'll recall that I tried to talk to you. For _seven months._ And now, when you find out you can't ignore me anymore, now you want to talk?"

Hermione scoffed and shook her head. She took a moment to collect herself before continuing.

 _"_ What happened happened. I don't care what the reason was, or whatever excuse you want to feed me. I don't care that you're disgusted by my blood status, something I cannot change, mind you. I don't care that you're married. I don't. I just want to practically obliviate the last two years from my mind. You did it, Mrs. Lestrange. You made it very clear. I'm just a filthy mudblood, right?"

She grabbed her cloak, willing herself to feel the numbness she felt that morning. She did care. She wanted answers. But more than that, she wanted Bellatrix to leave her alone. Or to tell her this was all a sick joke.

"So unless there's something work related I can help you with," she slipped on her cloak and made sure she wasn't forgetting anything. "I'd like to go."

A look crossed Bella's face, something Hermione couldn't quite catch. Remorse? Despair? Heartbreak?

Doubtful. She wasn't sure if the older witch was capable of feeling any of those.

Finally, the familiar mask fell back into place, and before Bellatrix left, she said to Hermione, "As long as it doesn't effect the working environment, we should be fine."

 **!**

A few more months past, and Hermione began to feel like a person again.

She'd explained what happened to Ron, who seemed shocked, but turned out to be a pretty good listener. They'd spent most of their nights together or with Harry when he could, talking and laughing about the trouble they used to get into and the trouble they currently do.

Hermione loved her job. She managed to get S.P.E.W. put into affect, and worked hard trying to make sure the houselves were treated fairly.

That is, when she was in her office. Most of her time was in the field, either investigating reports, helping handle creatures, or helping to nurse those creatures back to health.

Work kept her busy, to say the least, which she was thankful for. At least now she could at least channel the hurt she felt into something that bettered the world.

Hermione didn't see much of Bellatrix, as the other woman either had just as busy a schedule, or she was avoiding the brunette. She suspected it was a bit of both, but their paths as run across one another a few times.

She had helped Bellatrix into her office as few more times, and had even accompanied her in cases that involved magical creatures. Whenever they were around one another, they were either silent, or they talked about work. They never acknowledged each other aside from that.

"Ms. Granger?" Bellatrix opened the door to her office and stepped in, the room filled by her presence. She'd stopped calling Hermione by her first name right after their talk.

"Yes, Mrs. Lestrange?" Hermione had stopped putting emphasis on Bella's last name, realizing that it just showed that she still cared.

"I need you to come with me. I have a house call to make, and I suspect there may be some illegal hippogriffs tucked away."

Hermione grabbed her cloak. "You lead, I'll follow."

 **!**

They apparated in front of a large, imposing manor, one that seemed to be taken straight out of the movies she watched as a kid, curled up next to her mother, before cancer took her.

"This is the place. Be careful. This guy, Tom Riddle, is a bit unhinged." Bellatrix warned as she drew her wand.

They walked up to the front door and knocked. There was a lot of shuffling heard behind the door, and the suspicious sound of flapping wings, before the door opened a few inches. A face appeared in the gap.

Tom looked like the sort of man that would've been handsome if he'd taken care of himself. As it was now, his teeth were rotting, and the suave grin he shot Hermione made her want to gag. His hair was long, disheveled, and greasy, and his black beard looked to have crumbs in it.

"Madame Auror. And guest." He leered at Hermione, who felt her skin crawl.

"What brings you to my humble abode?" He sounded as if he were trying not to sound so suspicious, which only made him sound more suspicious.

"I'm making a house call, Riddle. We do this every three weeks; you know that." Bellatrix replied, giving Riddle a once over. She always felt like she needed a long, hot shower after being around him.

"Ah! It must've slipped my mind." He laughed, sounding more like a wheeze. "Could you perhaps come back tomorrow? I'm afraid the house is a mess."

"No, Tom. You know that isn't how it works. Now, you can either open the door, or I can blast it off like I did before."

He sighed, but opened the door. There were feathers everywhere, along with droppings and bits of feed left behind.

It was obvious he had hippogriffs, and Hermione was about to try to find them, completely ignoring the exchange between Tom and Bella.

"I told you, it was a mess!" He shouted, pulling his wand before either witch could react. He pointed it at the Head Auror.

"Sectumsempra!" She tried to dodge, but the spell managed to slice into her abdomen. She crumpled to the floor, her legs weak from the impact

Her moan of pain is what caught Hermione's attention.

Despite everything that had happened, she didn't like seeing the Auror hurt. She pulled her wand out, fire in her eyes. Tom smirked, turning his piercing gaze to her.

"I can smell your blood, little mudpuppy." He taunted, which made Hermione's blood boil in her veins, right before sending a hex her way.

She blocked easily, and sent a counterspell that force him to dodge.

She stood her ground as they each fired off hex after hex, Hermione being able to hold her own from all of the other excursions she went on with the other witch.

"You've got such filthy blood." He laughed an insane laugh as his hexes turned to curses.

Hermione grit her teeth and fought harder, trying to ignore him. She knew he was trying to anger her, trying to make her slip up.

She felt a presence in her mind, felt him rifling through her memories, and felt powerless. Nobody had ever taught her Occlumency, and she didn't think she'd ever need it.

Riddle stopped, casting a powerful shield to protect him.

"Oh this is rich!" He cackled, his gaze shifting between the two women. Bellatrix had managed to stop the bleeding, but was weak from blood loss, and Hermione felt like her whole body was alight with rage.

"You loved her." He said to Hermione. "But she realized she could be with someone with less putrid blood!"

Something snapped in Hermione. She remembered reading once that extreme emotions could channel into her magic, making it stronger.

Whether or not that was the case, she didn't know. What she did know was her spells felt even stronger than they'd ever been.

"Reducto!" In one shot, she'd shattered his shield. The smirk in his face slipped off, and his eyes widened. He raised his wand once more.

"Avada Ke-"

"Petrificus Totalus!"

He dropped like a stone to the floor, and Hermione had to pocket her wand to keep from cursing him further.

Instead, she walked over and kicked him a few good times to let off some steam.

She pulled her wand out once more and cast her patronus. The otter came out and happily danced around her as she spoke.

"Riddle fought back but was incapacitated. Send back up, in case he has friends, and a few hippogriff handlers." The patronus disappeared, on its way to carry the message.

She looked over to the other witch. She'd managed to get to her feet, but she was in bad shape. She gave Hermione an unreadable expression.

Hermione looked Bellatrix up and down, inspecting her for other wounds besides the one on her stomach.

"Come here." Hermione motioned a confused Bellatrix over. "Your midsection's pretty bad."

Bella waived her off. "I've had worse."

The younger of the two cocked a brow. "So do you want to walk around with a chunk missing from your stomach, or do you want me to fix it?"

She looked skeptical. "You aren't going to hex me, are you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Why would I hex you with back up coming?"

Bellatrix pondered it for a moment, then pulled the ripped cloth of her dress away to expose the wound better.

Hermione sucked in a breath. It was a deep gash, and even though she'd managed to stop the bleeding, she knew it had to hurt worse than Bella would let on.

She tenderly placed a hand on Bella's back, telling herself that it was only because she needed to make sure the other woman wouldn't jerk away. The younger woman muttered under her breath, and a mint green jet hit Bella's skin, numbing the area and stitching the wound back together.

"There. Good as new." Hermione said when she finished.

Bellatrix stared at her, seeming to contemplate something. She'd hoped the Auror hadn't heard what Riddle said, but it seemed she did. Before either one of them knew what was happening, Bellatrix grabbed Hermione by her cloak and kissed her hard.

Explosions went off in Hermione's mind, and she saw a light show dancing on her now closed lids. She kissed Bellatrix back, knowing she should be pushing her away, slapping her, something to show that this woman didn't control her.

But she didn't want to. She wanted to savor every last moment of this before Bellatrix pulled the rug out from under her. Then she'd go back to hating her.

The muggleborn cupped Bella's cheek softly, her other arm looping around the back of her neck to pull her closer. She felt hands moving from her chest to her waist, and finally her back.

After what felt like forever, but in reality was only a few moments, the two broke apart. Hermione rested her forehead against Bella's, both her hands now resting lightly on the back of her neck.

Bellatrix looked like she was going to say something, but the two heard the familiar crack of someone apparating, and pulled apart.

That was the last she saw of Bellatrix, at least, for a while.

 **!**

Bellatrix didn't come into work the next day.

Hermione sighed. Nobody seemed to know where the older witch was. Calls to her house via fire were answered by her husband, who told them that she'd gone missing.

She was at a loss. The only way she could think to reach the other witch was the way she'd never wanted to use again. But it was her only option.

 _ **"Bellatrix? Nobody's heard from you, and everyone is getting worried."**_

She wanted to add that it wasn't her that was worried, but then the message would be long and awkward, she told herself.

There was nothing for a few hours, and Hermione had almost forgotten about it when she felt a pain on her stomach. She lifted her shirt and gasped in horror.

 _ **"HELP ME"**_

It looked scratched into her skin. She grabbed her quill as fast as she could and quickly responded.

 _ **"Where are you?"**_

 _ **"Diagon Alley**_

 _ **Behind wand shop**_

 _ **Hurry please"**_

Hermione apparated on the spot, showing up at Ollivander's moments later. She ran to the back alley, and looked around. There was a lot of filth, but no sign of Bellatrix.

"Mrs. Lestrange?" She called out, looking further into the alley.

"...nt nymre" a muffled voice replied from a heap of boxes. Hermione blew them away with a flick of her wand, and dropped to her knees in front of the body she found.

Bellatrix was clad only in a bra and underwear, but was soaked in blood. There was a massive head wound covering most of her face in blood, along with deep looking slashes all across her body. Her leg was bent at an odd angle, but she was breathing. Barely.

 _Who could've done this to her?_

"Come on. Let's get you to St. Mungo's. They'll fix you up." Hermione reached for Bella's hand, only to have hers weakly swatted away.

"No...hospital." Bella rasped out.

Hermione sighed. She was glad she restocked her potions ingredients.

"Okay. Okay. We can go to my place." Hermione gently picked her up as carefully as she could, wincing when she saw Bellatrix grimace in pain.

"Everything's going to be fine, love." She said, more to herself as she watched Bella's head loll into her chest.

 **!**

Back at Hermione's flat, she set Bella down softly onto her bed. The first order of business was to seal the wounds.

As she started on the head wound, she realized that most, if not all, of the wounds had glass or something of the sort rubbed into them, making it impossible to simply seal them up.

Hermione mentally vowed she'd personally castrate the sick bastard who did this as she prepared a salve to pull the debris out. As she did that, she forced a blood replenishing potion down Bella's throat, waking her up slightly.

She smeared the salve on her wounds and bandaged them as best she could, then healed her obviously broken leg. Then, she pulled up a chair beside the bed and waited.

Bellatrix had slipped into unconsciousness shortly after, leaving Hermione alone with her thoughts.

Hermione stayed up for hours, waiting for Bellatrix to wake up. Night came and went, and it was early morning when Hermione stood. She spent all night lost in thought, and as she stretched her legs, she voiced them, though there was no point, since Bella was asleep.

"You know what I don't get?" She started, talking more to herself than anything else. She began to pace.

"For two years, we talk. We share stories, secrets, theories, and the like. You seem to be the absolute perfect woman, someone I could see sharing the rest of my life with."

"And then you...you just break me." She looked back at the bed, noting that Bellatrix hadn't stirred. At least she wouldn't see the tears in her eyes.

"For fuck's sake, Bella! 'Did you really think I would ever want to be with someone who has blood as filthy as yours? Leave me in peace, mudblood.' What was that supposed to do other than completely destroying me?"

"It hurt because I did think you would want to be with someone like me. You made me think you didn't care about blood status, that you truly saw me for me, only to completely shatter that dream."

Hermione chuckled sadly, tears freely flowing. "You know what the saddest part was? I would've utterly and totally forgiven all of it, all of the days of you ignoring me, all of the times I'd see little marks and wonder how you were, all of the mornings waking up with just a sliver of hope only to go to bed empty, if you had just explained why. Because maybe then I could convince you that I was still decent."

She sat down again, this time at the foot of the bed. The fire had gone out in her eyes, and she just looked broken. Tears continued to fall, but she didn't wipe them away. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, she stared at the headboard and went on.

"Did you know I was asleep when it happened? When you married your _husband_. When you fucked your _husband._ I woke up the next day covered in hickies, and a little ring indention on my left finger. And you know the best part? That was my first day of work."

She ran a hand through her hair, wiping her tears, finally, with her sweater sleeve.

"It was torture working with you. The sweetest torture I'd ever known. I was close enough to touch the love of my life, and yet I couldn't. It was like that ring was a shield, protecting you from my subpar blood. I lied that day when I said I didn't care. I cared so much, Bella. I loved you and you broke me."

She smiled sadly, remembering a few days ago. "Do you remember Tom Riddle's house? You kissed me. You kissed me like you loved me, and for a second, I let myself believe it."

Hermione stood once more, not allowing herself to fall further into her self pity.

"I just don't know why you did. I'll never know why." She finished, busying herself with preparing more salve.

"Because..." a raspy voice let out, making Hermione nearly drop her mixture. She turned to the bed, and saw Bellatrix struggling to sit up.

"Save your strength, Bella. You're gonna need it." Hermione chastised hollowly as she moved to lay Bella down.

The battered witch caught Hermione's hands and held them with surprising strength.

"Because...I love...you." She finished, letting go of her hands.

Hermione was shocked, to say the least. She found herself growing angrier, her rage bubbling up. If she didn't get out of there soon, she'd do something she'd regret.

"Well, looks like you're up. I'll be back in a few hours to change your dressings and bring some lunch. Would you prefer soup or stew?"

Bellatrix looked shocked. She tried to grab hold of her again, but the young witch was already out of reach.

"Hermione..."

"Soup it is."

Hermione turned on her heel and left, and Bellatrix heard much of the downstairs get bombarded by different curses for the next few hours.

 **!**

Hermione came back, as promised, which surprised Bellatrix. She brought soup for her, which she spoon fed the older witch, who was still too weak to move a lot.

Bellatrix tried to speak to Hermione, but was met with a brick wall. The one time she'd gotten something out of her was when Hermione had first walked in.

As she fed her soup, Hermione asked her two simple questions.

"How much of that did you hear?"

"...all of it."

"So you were faking sleep to eavesdrop on my little sob story?"

"Herm-"

"Answer my question."

"Yes."

With a nod, she remained deadly silent the rest of the time she fed her.

As Hermione started redressing her wounds once more, Bellatrix tried again.

"Hermione.."

"No."

"Please, can we just talk-"

"If you don't want to find yourself back in that alley, I'd suggest you close your mouth."

Bella was silent the rest of their interaction.

What killed her was the hours that would pass without Hermione. The younger witch would come in, check her bandages, help her to the bathroom, and then leave.

This was not at all how she imagined being around Hermione when they began all of this. She imagined cold winter's nights cuddled by the fire, first kisses in the rain, watching their children go off on the train to Hogwarts.

But, she only had herself to blame. She panicked when her father arranged her marriage, and sent her that last message, then stopped speaking to Hermione in the hopes that she'd move on to someone that didn't have the weight of their namesake on their shoulders.

It broke her heart into pieces to wake up every day and see a new message from the one person who could make her feel free, but she couldn't respond to.

She knew Hermione would never stop trying, stubborn as she was, and part of her hoped she never would.

Then her bastard of a husband told her that they'd have to "consummate our marriage" in front of both of their families, as part of some sick tradition from kings long since dead. She felt a part of herself die when Hermione had sent her that message.

But it seemed over and done now, and from the cold shoulder Hermione gave her, there was no hope of fixing it.

 **!**

It was a few more days until Bellatrix was well enough to move.

Those days were the worst and best of her life. Hermione was so close Bellatrix could literally reach out and touch her, she could feel the other witch's presence, yet there was nothing she could do.

Whenever she tried to speak, to explain herself, Hermione either sent her a glare that ended the conversation, or simply left the room.

When Bellatrix's wounds healed, she'd grabbed her wand from its place on the night stand and apparated away. She was sure Hermione wouldn't want to be near her.

She instead went to her office in the Ministry, and called in Ronald Weasley, who had just become an Auror.

Ron appeared a few moments later, nervous. Nobody knew why Bellatrix went missing, but rumors were rampant, with he latest being that she'd tortured one of the trainees until their mind broke.

"Weasley." She motioned for him to sit, and pushed a stack of papers his way.

"Yes, Madame Auror?" He asked, gulping slightly.

"I'm about to give you one of the biggest cases you will ever receive. Don't blow this, boy, and you'll go far. Understand?"

He nodded. She continued.

"I'd like you to press charges, on my behalf, of attempted murder. Your prime suspect, and the one I'll go ahead and inform you is guilty, is one Rodolphus Lestrange."

 **!**

It was a high profile case; as not only was Bellatrix the Head Auror, but her husband was the Minister's right hand man.

It wasn't hard to find Rodolphus, as he hadn't expected Bellatrix to ever be found, so he hadn't bothered to flee. Ron arrested him in his home, and upon further investigation of the homestead, he found that the basement was still covered with blood. The tools Rodolphus had used were still in there, all wickedly sharp and covered in blood.

When it went to court, it was a rather open and shut case. Bellatrix offered her memories, and the court was transported back to the night in question, through her eyes.

 **!**

 _"Rodolphus?" Bellatrix called out as she entered the house. It seemed empty, which was strange, as she knew her husband should have been home._

 _"Rodolphus?" She tried again as she went up the stairs. After searching a few of the rooms, she'd found him in his study, his back to her as he stared at the fire._

 _"Rodolphus, we have to talk." She sighed and leaned against the doorway._

 _"You don't want to be in this marriage. Neither do I. We both want to see other people. So I don't understand why you don't end it." She told him._

 _He turned, his eyes darker than normal. "You don't know what I want." He sneered. "Besides, you just want to run to that filthy little mudblood and forget your place as my wife."_

 _She pushed off, stepping further into the room. Bellatrix had hoped it would've gone easier than this, but we all can't have what we want now, can we?_

 _"Rodolphus, you're being difficult for no good reason. You don't love me. I don't love you. Perhaps you won't admit it now, but I know you want to be with Rabastan."_

 _He drew his wand, and before Bellatrix could do anything, he'd petrified her._

 _"You think you know what you're talking about, don't you bitch?" He spat, kicking her in the side._

 _"You think you're too good to be with a Lestrange? Need I remind you that it is your family that has the blood traitor?"_

 _He brought his foot down hard on her hand, crushing her fingers with a sickening crunch._

 _"I'll fix that soon enough. When I'm done with you, even your little mud baby won't want you."_

 _And with that, he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her out of the study._

 **!**

The next memories were hard for anyone to watch, yet Bellatrix watched them, never showing how painful it was to go through.

He'd stabbed her multiple times, broken bones, burned her, thrown acid onto her skin, only to heal her and start all over.

The torture lasted all night, and much of the day, until he'd decided he'd had his fun.

He'd grabbed her and apparated behind Ollivander's, then hid her behind some boxes and left her for the rats.

When the memories were through, the judge, an older man who looked like he was going to faint, asked her how she survived.

It was then that her face showed it's first emotion: her mouth formed a bittersweet half-smile.

"My soulmate. My guardian angel. She saved my life, and I will never be able to repay her."

 **!**

Everything was business as usual for the next couple of days. Her higher ups had given her a few easier assignments until she got back to her old condition, which she was fine with. It gave Bellatrix more time off the field, and in her office.

Truthfully, it gave her a chance to work up the courage to speak to Hermione.

The younger witch was in and out of her office a lot, keeping busy as best she could. It was a lot easier to be in her office when she knew Bellatrix was out, and now that she was in, it made her uncomfortable.

Something else that was on her mind was the article _The Daily Prophet_ wrote on the matter. It made the front page, and while most of it was background between the Blacks and the Lestranges, Rita had included one thing that stayed with Hermione.

 _According to our reporter inside the courtroom, when asked about how Ms. Black survived the encounter, she replied, "My soulmate. My guardian angel. She saved my life, and I will never be able to repay her."_

 _This just goes to show the world that one cannot be happy in an arranged marriage. Find out helpful tips about finding your soulmate on page 3, right after..._

Hermione had read and reread that part, her mind at a loss. It had gone further in depth about Bellatrix's memories, stating that the whole thing started as a marital dispute, as Bellatrix had wanted to pursue someone Rodolphus had just called various muggleborn slurs.

She knew who he was talking about, and it just served to confuse her more. Bellatrix caring was a hard concept for her to wrap her mind around.

In the end, the article finished by saying Rodolphus was sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss for his abhorrent actions, which Hermione thought was still too lenient for what he'd done.

She checked the clock, and noticed that it was almost time to go. As she began packing her things, her office door opened. In walked Bellatrix Black, recently divorced. She closed the door behind her and looked at Hermione.

"I wanted to talk, if I may." She seemed cordial, something that put Hermione on edge for some reason. She didn't care about the papers, and though Bellatrix had been through a lot, it didn't excuse her from her wrath.

"You wanted to talk? To really know how I feel?" She said after a beat.

"Yes, I-" Hermione's eyes locked onto hers, and Bellatrix saw the hurt and anger inside of them.

"I feel like the world's biggest idiot. There's a woman that I fell in love with, that showed me a whole new side of things, only to turn my world upside down in a matter of moments. Twice."

She leaned in closer. "When I woke up to that message, and then those marks, I felt a part of my being slip into nothing. And then I had to go in and see you? Looking just as bloody perfect as I'd imagined, giving me these looks when you thought I wasn't paying attention? Do you know that I had to tell myself every day that I was a muggleborn and that's why you left me? Not anything I could've possibly fixed, and no room to argue, obviously, since you had a husband. And then you kiss me and leave me even more confused than before? No. Don't you dare sit there and tell me you love me. This is all some sort of sick game to you, and yet, here I am still playing."

Bellatrix closed her eyes, feeling all of the hurt radiating off of Hermione in waves.

"Do you want me to explain myself?" She asked softly.

Hermione stopped. Bellatrix was docile, not even looking her in the eye. "Yes."

She took a breath. "I fell madly in love with you, Hermione. I know that you won't believe me, but I did. I loved you so much more than you could ever imagine, without ever meeting you. But my family wasn't in France just for fun. My father was picking out husbands for Narcissa and I. Andromeda had left our family for a muggleborn, and our father was thrown into a panic. He thought that if we were left to ourselves, we would ruin the Black family line."

She saw Hermione was actually listening, so she went on. "The night my father announced my engagement, I wrote you that message. I had hoped you would give up, and try to find your happiness somewhere else. But you persisted. Truthfully, I never wanted it to stop."

"Rodolphus insisted on our wedding night, that according to some outdated customs, we had to...consummate our marriage in front of both of our families. To "seal the deal" I should say. I felt...dirty...after, and I wanted nothing more than to find you and hold you closely forever. But I couldn't. So I settled for seeing you at work."

She looked at Hermione and took her hand. "You sent me that message, and I knew I was going to be okay. I scratched a reply, and I knew you'd find me. You never left me alone. You were a better soulmate than I could ever be."

Hermione was shocked. She was trying to process all of the information given to her, and it was hard. She felt so much, it hurt her head.

"Hermione."

"Bellatrix."

"I want to ask you something."

Hermione quirked a brow.

"Do you think there would ever be a time you would want to be with me?"

She sighed. "Bella...you're a pureblood. Who left me because you were afraid of your father, and married for status instead. None of that has changed, and I don't see any of it changing. I don't trust you."

Bellatrix thought for a moment. "That wasn't a no."

"It wasn't a yes, either."

"But not a no."

Hermione cracked a smile. "It's fucked up, but I still love you. After all of this, I want us to work. But I won't be a dirty secret, Bellatrix. I am a mudblood. And I don't want to hide that."

Bella immediately agreed. "I would never make you hide it. This past year or so, all I could think of was how much happier I'd be with you. I realized that I didn't care what my father wanted, because my father's wishes put me in a loveless marriage that almost killed me."

Hermione sighed. It was now or never. If she said no, she knew that Bellatrix would leave her be, and never bother her again. But she found that she didn't want that. She'd almost lost her, and she didn't want to take anymore chances.

"Why don't we take it slow?" She asked evenly, choosing her words carefully. "How about dinner tonight, if you're free?"

Bellatrix's smile could've sent a hundred dementors running.

"That would be wonderful."

 **!**

 _Lastly..._

"Do you think she's ready for it? She's quite small." Bellatrix's voice carried something Hermione ever heard from her: fear.

Their first child, Catherine Elizabeth Granger, ran to the Weasley's and greeted Ron's son, and the two boarded the Hogwarts Express together.

"Darling." Hermione kissed her forehead.

"Love." A kiss to her nose.

"My queen." A loving kiss on her lips.

"Our daughter will be fine. She's got all the brains the two of us have, plus the training from both of us from all of those 'bring your child to work' days. I'll be surprised if she doesn't burn the school down by her second year."

Bella gave a smile. "You're right. I'm worrying too much."

"Well, you aren't worrying enough. We have a free day today and our child isn't home. Yet you aren't worried about that?"

"..."

"Exactly."

"I love you."

"And I love you."

 **!**

 **Prompts: "Imagine your OTP living in a world where they could mark/write on their skin and allow the other person to see it. Person A has been checking daily, but has never received a single message from their soulmate. They wake up one day to find their body littered with bruises and messy letters spelling out 'HELP ME'on their stomach." And "The classic soulmate AU where every mark your soulmate gets shows up on your skin. Person A walked up alone on their 25th birthday with the indentation of a wedding ring on their finger and covered head to toe in hickies."**

 **I gotta admit, I obviously didn't follow the prompts to a T, but I'm happy with it.**

 **I stayed up all night writing this. I'm not kidding. I started at like 7 at night and it's 6:56 a.m.**

 **I still have to edit and make it not terrible.**

 **But hey! A shoutout to my main man InvaderJohnny! He's always one of the first to read and review my stories, no matter how vague the pairing. You're the best, dude, and if you have any requests, I'll be more than happy to make it happen!**

 **I'm gonna go to bed now.**

 **Sleep is for the weak. But I am weak.**

 **Bye now!**

 **Update: I changed half of the story because sleepy me had no idea what she was saying.**

 **See you all next chapter!**


	3. A day at the Park

**Hey all! So, this wasn't the original prompt I wanted to do, but I have no idea where I'm going to go with the other one, so until I get the rest of the plot figured out, I'm gonna write this one.**

 **Also, I was thinking about it not too long ago, and my pen name is laughably childish, but I refuse to change it. I've had a fanfiction account since 12 or 13, and it's just sentimental, ya know? I don't know what the point of telling you guys that was, but this almost feels like a diary, because none of you know me and it's nice.**

 **Aaaaaanyways, enjoy!**

 **!**

Hermione smiled, her first real one in months, as she watched her daughter fly around the park on her toy broom. Sarah's eyes twinkled with mischief, something Hermione was sure came from her damned twin uncles, and the bright witch knew that she'd have her work cut out for her when the girl got older, especially now that she was on her own.

The muggleborn woman married her Hogwarts sweetheart fresh after graduation, which, she now knew, wasn't the smartest thing to do. Ron never really grew up from his childish streak in school, and married life was no different. Many times, Hermione would find out after the fact that Ron had gone out drinking after work with Harry, and she'd have to go over and drag his semi-conscious form home.

One would think that it would change once a child was involved, but no. If anything, it got worse. Hermione doubted that Ron even changed a diaper while they were together, and instead spent most of his time in the pubs after work. When he did take Sarah, the two would go to the Burrow, where she'd be given to his mother so he could "rest".

It was frustrating enough having to be a single mother in a marriage of two, but Hermione thought that she could cope with this. He loved her, and he'd have to settle down eventually. Hermione always was the more mature of the two, but soon, Ron would get there, and become a good father.

Except he never did. The straw that broke the camel's back came in the form of Lavender Brown.

 **!**

Hermione remembered that day well. Sarah was sick, and Ron had said that he would watch her while Hermione went to work, as long as she picked up some potions for her, as well. The bright witch was happy with this; it seemed that Ron was finally stepping up and being a father.

She'd gone to work at the Ministry, then stopped by the potions shop Draco had opened after he'd finished school. The two caught up for a bit, as Draco seemed to have mellowed out about pureblood supremacy after Hogwarts. Finally, she bought a few potions that would make her daughter feel better, and headed home.

She usually used the Floo to get home, but that day, for some reason, she decided to walk. Perhaps it was the fresh air, or perhaps it was a gut instinct, all Hermione knew for sure was that something felt wrong as she approached the small house she shared with her husband and child.

As the muggleborn walked into her house, she heard her daughter's faint cries drifting down from upstairs, and laughter coming from the living room. A woman's laughter.

Hermione approached the living room slowly, not wanting to make a sound. Her thoughts drifted to the worst, but she shook it off. Ron wouldn't cheat on her, and certainly not when their child was crying upstairs.

Right?

She peered into the living room, and suddenly wasn't so sure. As Sarah continued to cry upstairs, Ron's face was buried in another woman's neck, biting and sucking on her pulse point as she giggled breathlessly. Hermione recognized her as an old girlfriend Ron had back at Hogwarts, Lavender Brown.

She was furious, and her first instinct was to hex the both of them into oblivion. But, her daughter was being neglected upstairs, and as she pulled her head away from the doorway and leaned against the wall, Hermione realized that she just felt done. She wasn't even surprised that Ron was cheating a this point; she felt relieved, of all things.

Collecting herself, Hermione walked into the living room, straight past the two cozy lovebirds, and up the stairs to her daughter's room. She heard Ron saying something to Lavender, and the sound of footsteps following her.

Hermione gently picked up Sarah out of her crib and poured the potion into her mouth. Immediately, she stopped crying, and looked up a her mother with big, hazel eyes.

The witch held her baby for a few seconds before she heard Ron pounding on the nursery door. She had locked it before she went in, not wanting to deal with him while taking care of their child.

"Hermione? Hermione open up! I can explain! She means-"

Hermione wasn't paying attention to him. She saw the look on Sarah's little face; the infant did not like the noise being made. Hermione cast a simple muffliato spell, and everything was silent. She smiled at her baby's look of contentment after that, and gently placed her back in her crib.

The witch gathered the most essential items she'd need for her baby for the next few weeks, and packed them all into a bag. Hermione picked up Sarah, and. grabbed the baby monitor.

The baby monster doubled as a port key, so in a few seconds, the mother and daughter were standing in Hermione's bedroom she shared with Ron. She heard her soon-to-be ex-husband still knocking on the nursery door, and thanked whatever god was out there that he wasn't bright enough to check their bedroom. She silently gathered her things and put all of it into a duffel bag she'd charmed to hold everything.

When she was done, she gathered the bag and her child. Hermione walked out of the bedroom to get Ron's attention.

"'Mione!" He yelled, upsetting Sarah. "I can explain!"

Hermione shook her head. She wasn't even numb; she was just relieved that it was over.

"There's no need, Ron. You aren't fit to be a father, or a husband. I should've learned that sooner, but there's no time like the present."

 **!**

That had been a little over five years ago, and honestly, Hermione hadn't looked back since. It was hard, at first, being a single mother _and_ having a single mother's income, all the while trying to battle for a divorce and custody of Sarah, but it was worth it in the end.

Hermione had her daughter, and Ron could see her whenever he liked. Which wasn't often.

She shook the thoughts from her head and watched Sarah, now off the broom, picking flowers. Upon noticing her mother watching, the little girl grinned and motioned for her to join in the flower picking.

Hermione chuckled, but walked towards her. As she grew older, she looked more like her mother. She had the same bushy hair, but a few shades lighter, with hazel eyes and an angular face hiding under the baby fat. Her favorite things to do either involved books or pranks, and her magic had already manifested in the form of setting a boy's eyebrows on fire for making fun of her hair.

The thought gave her a small smile, one that she couldn't help but have around Sarah. Her daughter was truly a blessing, and she loved her with all of her heart.

She reached her daughter, who was standing in a patch of wildflowers growing in the park. The child already had a fistful of flowers clutched tightly in her small hand, and she handed them to her mother.

"For me?" She asked in her overly surprised voice. Sooner or later Sarah would grow up and not be fooled by the voice, but for now it just made her giggle.

"No silly!" Her daughter said, and a genuine look of confusion crossed her features.

"They're for her!" Sarah pointed at a woman at one of the benches in the park.

She wore all black, which was an odd choice in the summer heat, especially since it was a tight fitting corset dress. She had an unruly mop of curls on her head, and Hermione could sympathize with how hard it was to try to style it.

Nevertheless, she was beautiful. Hermione watched the woman read a book, an air of poise about it. Her pale face was passive, aside from a furrowed brow as she concentrated on the pages.

Hermione felt her heart flutter in her chest, and she couldn't help but stare.

After a moment, however, a tugging on her hand brought her back, and she kneeler down to her daughter.

"Darling, I don think she wants to be disturbed." Hermione said carefully.

Sarah shook her head. "No mommy! She needs a friend. Do you see how sad she is?"

Hermione sighed. Leave it to her empath of a daughter to be able to read emotions from so far away.

"But I'm not allowed to talk to strangers." Sarah said. "So you've gotta do it, mommy!"

Hermione seemed to mull over this for a moment. She'd just give the woman the flowers, explain part of the situation, and leave. Not too bad.

"Fine." Hermione agreed. "But you have to come."

Sarah nodded eagerly, and Hermione took her hand. Together, the two traversed the field and made their way to the woman's bench.

The woman didn't notice Hermione and her daughter until they were right in front of her, and even then, Hermione had to clear her threat to get her attention.

The woman looked up, giving her a scathing look for a second before seeing Sarah and smiling nervously.

"Umm..." Hermione started smartly. Really, she truly was the brightest witch of her age.

Sarah wasn't fairing much better, hiding behind her mother and watching the woman.

"My daughter," she motioned to Sarah, hidden behind her leg, "She gave me these."

Hermione held the flowers out to the woman, hoping her shaking hands weren't that noticeable, along with the red face she knew she probably had.

"And instructed me to give them to you."

The woman looked at the flowers warily, but accepted them, her hand brushing against Hermione's for an electrifying moment.

She was even more beautiful up close, and the mother found herself lost in dark, troubled eyes.

"Thank you." The woman pulled out her wand and transfigured a small rock into a vase, then added water and put the flowers in. "I know the perfect place for them."

 _In the trash, probably,_ Hermione thought to herself, but smiled anyways.

The woman watched Sarah for a few seconds, and then slowly offered her hand.

"Hello, little one. My name is Bellatrix; what about you?"

Slowly, Sarah peeked out from her hiding place and looked at the offered hand. After a beat, her small hand shot out to meet it.

"Sarah. Sarah Granger. My mommy's Hermiowne."

Bellatrix gave a small smile. "Well, Ms. Granger, has anyone ever told you that you look just like your mother?"

Sarah thought for a little bit. "My daddy does, but only when I see him. He doesn't live with my mommy and me. Mommy says it's because they got a dee-vorse. Right mommy?"

Bellatrix's face looked shocked, and Hermione quickly stepped in.

"Well, erm, that's, uhh, right Sarah. Say, why don't you show mommy your broom tricks? Say bye to the nice lady, Sarah!"

A mortified Hermione gently walked her daughter back to their spot in the fields.

 **!**

The rest of their time, Hermione played with her daughter, Sarah's giggles and shrieks never failing to put a smile on her face.

She felt a pair of eyes on her, but whenever she glanced back towards the woman, she had her nose buried in her book.

Eventually, the woman left the park altogether, and Hermione couldn't stop the pang of disappointment she felt when she saw the empty park bench staring back at her.

As the sun set, Hermione grabbed the toy broomstick and swept her daughter up in her arms, the giggling mass automatically climbing onto her shoulders. They walked towards the entrance of the park, where a figure stood, hard to make out in the dying light.

Hermione held her wand in her pocket, but relaxed her grip slightly when she saw it was Bellatrix.

With a bouquet of flowers in her hand.

As she approached, the woman turned to her and smiled nervously.

"Ms. Granger." She regarded Sarah with a smile, to which the child reciprocated with a toothy grin.

"I thought it was sweet that your mother gave me flowers from you, so I wanted to return the favor." She made eye contact with Hermione and held the flowers out gingerly.

"What do we say to the nice lady, Sarah?" Hermione asked, never breaking eye contact with the woman.

"Thank you!" Sarah said, her grin threatening to split her face.

"Thank you." Hermione repeated, her smile much smaller, but sweeter.

Bellatrix nodded, and without a further word, she turned and apparated away.

The mother and daughter began walking to the nearest public Floo, since Hermione didn't want to apparate when Sarah was so small, when she noticed a note tucked into the flowers.

 _Hermione,_

 _Any woman brave enough to indulge a child's wishes is a woman I'd love to take to dinner._

 _Bellatrix_

At the bottom was a number, one that, Hermione wagered, connected to Bellatrix's fireplace.

"Say, Sarah." She called to the child on her shoulders, her eyes still reading the note and a smile playing on her face.

"Yes mommy?"

"How would you like to visit uncle Harry?"

 **!**

 **And that's that! Prompt: "Imagine person A, the shy/sweet one, is being dragged by their five year old to a field of flowers. Picking lots of flowers with A behind them, the kid impatiently pushes them in A's hands. "For me?" "No you have to give them to _". Red faced and with a giggling child, A gingerly hands the flowers to person B. "I had to give them to you."**

 **I really liked writing this one. If you want a continuation of Hermione and Sarah, let me know!**

 **Otherwise, I'll see you dudes in the next one shot!**


	4. Of Witches and Women

**Hello all! Strap in; I think this one is gonna be a long one. I was thinking about a different prompt (if you would like to help, DM me, at this point I don't know what I want to do with this particular prompt and it's driving me insane), when I remembered some stuff that I keep debating telling about now or later.**

 **I think we'll go with: you'll find out.**

 **That's a good idea.**

 **ALSO I COMPLETELY FORGOT A WARNING FOR THE LAST GORY ONE SO IF YOU NEED A WARNING THIS IS PROBABLY GOING TO CONTAIN BLOOD AND VIOLENCE AND ABUSE AND I THINK HEAVY HINTS TOWARDS RAPE* BECAUSE I AM MORBID OKAY COOL YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED**

 ***also a disclaimer because I do NOT condone rape or romanticization of mental illnesses**

 **ALS AM STARTING THIS AT 4:20 IN THE MORNING SO IF IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE I APOLOGIZE**

 **I YELL A LOT WHEN I'M TIRED**

 **Enjoy!**

 **!**

Bellatrix's day started off well.

She had just woken up with her lover next to her, something that usually doesn't happen with their busy schedules.

The conscious witch studied her features. The familiar bushy hair that her love had struggled with for so long seemed to mellow out with age, and instead framed her sleeping face with soft brown locks. She had laid her head on Bellatrix's shoulder, as usual. Bella thought it strange that they'd been together for so long, almost two years, yet her lover never really got close to her when they slept. They would always start the night in each other's arms, but the younger of the two would gradually find her way out of Bella's grasp.

As she gently stroked her hair, she found that she didn't really care. The fact remained that she still woke up to a goddess amongst men, and she counted herself lucky.

"I can practically hear your thoughts." Hermione spoke, her eyelids opening to reveal brown eyes with a hint of laughter in them. "What has your gears turning at.."

She checked the alarm clock on her bedside table. "Five o' clock in the morning?"

Bellatrix smiled and kissed her forehead, hesitantly wrapping an arm around Hermione.

As usual, the other woman stiffened at the sudden contact, but slowly relaxed and cuddled into Bella's side, placing her head in the crook of her neck.

Bella traced Hermione's naked back with a fingertip as she held her. She ran her fingers over the many scars littering her flesh, from huge, jagged slashes to what appeared to be muggle cigarette burns. She had smaller scars on her chest and stomach, but they were focused mainly on her back.

She'd only ever asked Hermione about them once, and was given a harsh, "none of your goddamned business," before the younger woman walked out of her house.

Hermione had stayed at her flat for a few days after that, ignoring Bellatrix's calls and letters. Finally, the older woman showed up to her house and refused to leave until Hermione talked to her.

In an eerily calm voice, Hermione had explained that she didn't care to discuss what happened in her past, and that if Bellatrix wanted to be with her she would just have to accept that.

Bellatrix, who already knew that she loved this woman more than anything, readily agreed. She was still frustratingly curious, but she loved Hermione, and respected her wishes. She'd tell her when she was ready.

After all, Bellatrix was keeping a secret of her own from her love.

Still, Bellatrix would run her fingers over them when Hermione allowed her to, as it was her way of saying, "I find you absolutely stunning, and these are not flaws. Simply a part of your unconventional beauty."

It was a rare occasion that Hermione didn't push her hand away from them after a few seconds, but when she didn't, Bellatrix stopped touching them. She sensed that it made Hermione uncomfortable, but she was holding her tongue for Bella's curiosity's sake.

Satisfied, and not wanting to cause her love pain, Bellatrix moved her hand up to Hermione's shoulder and squeezed her gently. Hermione smiled into her neck, and wrapped her arm around Bella's waist, already drifting back to sleep.

Bellatrix was just about to join her when a loud bang startled her. She shot up, already grabbing for her wand, when she caught sure of her partner's patronus.

"What on earth is that?" Hermione asked, and Bellatrix cursed silently. She'd have a lot of explaining to do, but for now, she had urgent business to attend to.

"I'll explain later, darling." She said, kissing a shocked Hermione on the lips before quickly dressing and heading out the door. She walked a block or so away before apparating to her office.

It was a pain, not being able to use magic around Hermione, but it was frowned upon.

She was a muggle, after all.

 **!**

Bellatrix popped into her office with a familiar 'crack', startling Rabastan, who was anxiously pacing the room.

He stumbled back, but quickly regained composure. "What took you so long?" He asked, his voice strained, as if he was holding back his anxiousness.

"I was with my girlfriend when I got your patronus. My _muggle_ girlfriend, I might add." She glared him down, daring him to say something.

To his credit, Rabastan didn't go on the usual "blood purity" tirade he usually had ready for when Bellatrix brought Hermione up. Instead, she watched the vein on his forehead bulge and his face grow redder as he fought to keep his words to himself. He'd come a long way from his family's beliefs; they both had.

But he still had a long way to go.

"Right. Well. We've got a case. Pretty bad. Really bad, from what I hear."

"Where?"

"Some alleyway close to a muggle hospital."

Bellatrix inhaled sharply. Hermione was a doctor at a muggle hospital. She hoped it wasn't the same one.

"When was it found? And what happened?" She asked, keeping her voice even.

Rabastan handed her the file she didn't realize he'd been holding. "Around 4 this morning. Muggle law enforcement agent found chunks of flesh coating the walls and ground in the alleyway. He said it looked as if someone had swallowed a..." Rabastan trailed off, forgetting the word.

Bellatrix, who had been reading while he explained, gave it to him. "A grenade. The muggle version of a bombarda spell."

He looked puzzled. "What exactly is it supposed to do?"

She thought back to the early days of dating Hermione, when she would make it a point to always be in the coffee shop the muggle frequented on her lunch breaks and talk to her. Hermione had come in one day looking tired and worn down, and Bellatrix had asked what was wrong.

"It's nothing." She had told her. "A patient came in, he'd somehow managed to get his hands on a grenade, and didn't throw it far enough. I've just been in surgery for the past few hours."

"From what gather," Bellatrix focused back in, "A grenade is thrown, and causes a dangerous explosion. If it's swallowed, I'm assuming it's like exploding from the inside."

Rabastan shuddered. "There was magical residue all over the scene, but what kind of spell could possibly do that?"

Bellatrix sighed, closing the folder and shrinking it to fit in her robes.

"I've no idea. But we won't find anything standing in my office."

 **!**

The two made their way to the alley, where Rabastan vomited immediately upon seeing the scene.

There was blood everywhere: on the walls, the ground, painting the sidewalk in front of it, coating the trash bins. There was even an outline of a cat that had the misfortune of walking by just as the man was ripped apart.

Bellatrix walked up to the officer who'd found it, a muggle with short blonde hair and a rugged looking face. He was charmed, apparent in the dreamy expression on his face.

"I's making me usual rounds 'fore I's off to me house," he smiled. "Heard a struggle 'n BAM! Bloke's popped like a balloon 'n there's black smoke everywhere."

"Black smoke? You think Voldemort's back?" Rabastan asked nervously.

Bellatrix waived him off. "Not a chance. This isn't his forte, even if his body wasn't completely incinerated by Dumbledore. Besides, if it were one of his death eaters, and I'm not saying it is, the dark mark would be plastered everywhere. It's not his forte. No, we've got something else on our hands."

She stepped into the alleyway, where her fellow aurors were taking pictures and testing some of the gouges left on the walls.

"I'm just not sure what."

Bellatrix had no idea, truthfully. "It could've been some sort of wild creature, but dragons usually don't come this far into the city, and they wouldn't wreak such havoc in such a small vicinity."

Rabastan ran a hand through his dark brown hair, slicked back out of his face for work. "It almost looks like something Rodolphus would-"

Bellatrix whirled around, her wand pointed at his chest. "Your pig of a brother is rotting in Azkaban. Where he belongs. Do not think for a second he has any hope of escaping and doing this."

Rabastan held his hands up in surrender, but didn't seem afraid. If anything, he just gave Bellatrix a look of understanding.

She hated it. It was the same look everyone gave her when they found out her ex-husband was a death eater sentenced to life in Azkaban.

They'd been married straight out of Hogwarts because of an arrangement between the Blacks and the Lestranges, but they didn't love each other. Rodolphus tried to convince her to join Voldemort, as his family had ties to the dark arts for centuries.

It was tempting. The thought of all of the wizarding world bowing at her feet, treating her like a queen, was more appealing than Bellatrix would ever admit.

His problem was trying to kill her sister, Andromeda, who was trying to keep her sister from becoming a monster. Andromeda still kept in contact with her sisters despite being disowned by their parents, and urge Bellatrix to look past the blood purity that their father and mother had drilled into their heads.

Rodolphus tried to kill her, which led to Bellatrix leading the charge, along with Dumbledore, to rid the world of Voldemort before a bigger problem could arise.

But despite overcoming all of it, people still didn't trust her, or just pitied her for having a death eater of an ex-husband.

"Bella..." Rabastan called. He hadn't been a part of it, as the dark arts never called to him like they did his brother. He never got into the fighting, but he was effected by the same pity and mistrust Bella was.

That's why, in the end, they worked well together. They understood each other because they were the only two who could.

"...so it can't be him." Rabastan changed the subject carefully. "Could it be a copy cat? Someone who found a dark arts tome in their basement and decided to have a bit of fun?"

Bella put her wand down and turned her back to him, continuing to study the gouges.

They seemed angry, like something couldn't physically stop itself from causing destruction. And they were huge; some of them looked longer than Bellatrix's body.

"I don't know. Perhaps. See if we can't piece the body back together and come up with a name for the victim. Hell, maybe if we can scrape enough of the poor bloke's brains off the wall, we can get some of his memory." Bellatrix sighed, and turned to leave. There was nothing she could do right now; no evidence had come about, and she'd have to wait until she had a lead on the case before she could do more than twiddle her fingers at her desk.

It was going to be a long day.

 **!**

"Darling?" Bella called out, closing the door to her lover's flat. She'd seen Hermione's car in the parking deck, and prepared herself for a lengthy discussion about what happened today.

"Hermione?" She called again, searching through the kitchen and living room and finding nothing.

As she neared the bedroom, however, she heard soft music playing. Taking it as a good sign, she went on.

As she entered, she found Hermione in an oddly somber mood, looking at pictures the two of them had taken over the two years they'd been together.

The one in her hand had been from their first date. She'd snapped a picture of Bella when she wasn't paying attention, instead looking out of the coffee shop with a look of concentration.

When Hermione had shown Bellatrix the picture, she'd asked her why she'd taken it.

"Because," Hermione had answered, "You always look so beautiful lost in thought."

"Hermione?"

Bellatrix hesitantly sat on the bed, keeping a little bit of space between her and her love.

Hermione didn't look up, instead looking through more of the pictures, and it was then Bellatrix noticed the tear stains on her cheeks, running down either side of her broken smile.

"Darling." She inched closer, slowly putting an arm around her and drawing her into we chest.

Hermione allowed this to happen. If she closed her eyes and concentrated _really_ hard, she could forget what Bellatrix was. She focused on the older woman's smell: leather, vanilla, old books...blood?

Hermione ripped herself from Bellatrix's grasp and put some distance between the two, her mind already flying back to her childhood.

"My love... what's going on?" The witch asked, her facial expression showing the pain Hermione felt.

"You wanted to know about my scars, right?" The muggle put her walls up. She'd been fooled for two years, and now isn't the time to go soft.

Bellatrix bit her lip. "Look, I've always respected that you don't want to talk about them. I can continue to respect that if it makes you-"

"My father was a wizard." Hermione admitted. Bellatrix's mouth snapped shut. She went on.

"He was a wizard, and a bastard of a man. He'd come home, drunk off of some wizard drink, and proceed to use all sorts of spells on me for no reason. Spells that caused _this_."

She tore her shirt off, and Bellatrix got her first good look of them she ever had.

The scars were old and faded, but still looked as though they had been incredibly painful. Hermione shivered as Bellatrix's fingers ran along each one.

Her back was a canvas of slashes and burns, as if the painter didn't have a vision in mind, only pain. Studying Hermione as her fingers traced them, she saw the same frightened little girl that looked pleadingly at her father as he continued this brutality.

"Hermione I am so sor-"

"Save it." Hermione snapped, pulling away. "My father was a monster. And when his crimes were found out? Your ministry did nothing. Absolutely. Nothing. I was hospitalized more times than I can remember, because that _bastard_ didn't even bother with healing spells, if he even knew any."

She pulled her shirt back on. "My mother begged me every night not to turn out like him. Not to be a witch. I promised her I wouldn't. And I made good on my promise. Because magic users are nothing but abusers and enablers."

Bellatrix recoiled as if she'd been burned. "You can't mean that, Hermione..."

"I thought you were different, Bellatrix." Hermione's tears were freely flowing, and the paler of the two longed to be allowed to kiss them away.

"You made me believe you were just another person. Not a monster. I loved you."

"Hermione, I'm still the same person I was a week ago!" Bella knew what was happening, and she wasn't giving Hermione up without a fight.

"No you aren't!" Hermione stood, angry and heartbroken. Bellatrix could've sworn that her eyes had gotten lighter. "The Bella I fell in love with didn't use magic. She could never figure out how the coffee maker worked. She walked through the park with me on my breaks, even though there were loads more interesting things to do."

She dried her tears, her apathy forcing its way back onto her face. "She is dead. Someone I don't even know has replaced her."

Bellatrix felt her heart break, and stuff itself into her throat. She'd never been this hurt, not by her parents, or Rodolphus, or anyone.

"Well." Bellatrix stood. She saw that she'd never convince Hermione differently. "I suppose I should be taking my leave then."

Hermione seemed shocked (and was that a flash of hurt Bellatrix saw? No. Couldn't be.), but nodded.

The witch took Hermione's flat key and tossed it onto the bed. She took out a small box.

"I was planning on giving this to you on better terms, but it seems now that's gone down the drain, yeah?"

She placed it gently on the bed next to the key. "Just keep it. I'll never use it, and it was a muggle tradition anyways. I never would've understood, but I would've done it to see you smile."

The witch made her way to the bedroom door and paused, her hand on the frame. She looked back to Hermione, who was staring at the items on the bed with an unreadable expression.

"Your smile was all I ever cared about. Goodnight, Hermione Granger, and Goodbye."

 **!**

Bellatrix walked to her home, needing the extra time to think, and get a handle on her emotions. It took a little over two hours, and by then, the sun would've been out if the sky weren't a dreary shade of gray.

When she did get home, she'd half-hoped that there would be a message from Hermione, or the woman standing in her living room with that same nervous smile she always got when she knew she did something to upset the witch.

No such luck. Instead, she came home to a cold, empty space that still smelled of the woman she loved.

Bellatrix sighed and shoved her keys into the bowl beside the door. She'd need a change of scenery soon. She made good money as an Auror, and she only lived here to be in a muggle city for Hermione.

She contemplated where she'd go as she opened up the file on the most recent murder. The witch took a seat and gathered her notes on the subject.

A body, found early in the morning, but looked to be there for a while, found blown apart from the inside out.

Traces of some sort of magical smoke found at the scene, which would point to Voldemort, except that:

Magical residue found all over the scene, but couldn't be traced to a wand, which makes one think that I could be a creature, but:

A magical beast wouldn't be that close to the city without some sort of disaster happening in its habitat, and even then, it'd cause chaos on a much larger scale.

Bellatrix sighed. There were truly no leads to go on, not until the victim's memories were somehow collected.

 **!**

Days turned into weeks, which turned into months, with nothing. There were more deaths that had begun stacking up:

An "exploder" as Rabastan had dubbed them, in an alley behind the café Bellatrix and Hermione used to frequent, found in the dead of night.

Another one found in the park they used to stroll through on Hermione's breaks.

A third found in a muggle supermarket parking lot.

And the most recent found on a sidewalk in a residential neighborhood.

Bellatrix found the pattern; these all happened at night, when there were little to no witnesses, and they all happened in places she and Hermione would frequent.

When she alerted the Head Auror, a no-nonsense man by the name of James Potter, he'd immediately sent a squad out to watch the young muggle from the shadows. So far, nothing had turned up.

Even when they'd managed to collect the memories of the first couple of bodies, all they'd seen was the victim trying to accost an unknown figure: in the first murder, the man had been trying to mug someone, when a cloud of black smoke enveloped him, and the second, he had pulled a woman into the alley and had his pants around his ankles when the same black smoke appeared. It seemed whatever was going after these people was some kind of vigilante.

It was getting frustrating, as the killings had begun to happen closer and closer together, going from a month or so in between, to a few weeks, to a few days at most. It was almost like whoever, or whatever, was out there was getting more comfortable with itself.

As Bellatrix sat at her desk, pouring over the cases, someone practically smashed through her door.

It was Rabastan. He looked pale, and Bellatrix could tell from her place at her desk that his skin was clammy.

"Bella...the squad sent to protect Hermione is dead." He painted, clutching the door frame as if it were the only thing keeping him standing.

She shot out of her seat and was across the room in a flash.

"You've got to be joking. Those were some of the best people in the department."

He shook his head frantically. There was a panic in his eyes. "I-I know. One second Christian was sending me reports, the next, there's a huge magical reading from their location."

"Well, let's see what we can find from the scene then."

He grabbed her arm. "Bellatrix, there's more."

She looked at him as if he'd grown another head.

"Well? Out with it, then."

He swallowed. "We found Hermione in the middle of all of it, covered in blood. We took her in for questioning, but she refuses to speak with anyone but you."

 **!**

The interrogation rooms that the ministry had looked a lot like the ones from the muggle television programs Bellatrix had watched with Hermione. The only difference was that there were runes drawn on the walls to keep magic from being used, both by law enforcement and anyone brought in.

She stepped through the door to the interrogation room, and spared a glance to the charmed mirror that she knew Potter was standing behind. Rabastan followed her in and closed the door.

Bellatrix took in Hermione's appearance. They'd help clean her up, and her white doctor's coat hung loosely off her frame. She looked like she hadn't eaten in a few days, and her eyes looked sunken into her head. She looked paler than usual, and her hair hung limply on either side of her face.

She looked like death.

Hermione's eyes flicked up to meet hers, and Bellatrix saw a flash of the old Hermione in them. She wondered if she looked the same to her, or if Hermione was focusing more on making her look as demonic as she thought she was.

"Ms. Granger." Bellatrix sat opposite of her ex lover, with the barren table between them reminding the witch of some god awful metaphor.

"Bella." Hermione responded with the same cold formality Bellatrix had offered. It stung, but it was work.

"Care to tell me why you've refused to speak to anyone but me?" Bellatrix leaned forward and laced her hands casually on the table. She knew Rabastan had his wand clutched in his hand under his robes, though it would do him no good, and he paced around the room slowly, like a lion in a cage.

If Rabastan was a lion, Hermione reminded her of a sleeping dragon. Calm, but one wrong move and whoever was unfortunate to wake her had better hope their will was up to date.

"You're the only...magic user...I know." Hermione chose her words carefully. "The only one I have a chance at reasoning with. You told me once that you were a law enforcement agent, so I assumed you would be working in this place."

Bellatrix nodded, accepting the answer. She pulled the folder she'd been attached to for the last couple of months and placed it on the table. She pulled out the pictures of the crime scenes, and laid them side by side with one another for Hermione to see.

She then pulled out the reconstructed faces of the victims, and placed them above their corresponding crime scenes.

The Auror watched Hermione study the pictures. She didn't seem disgusted; instead looking at them with the same calculating gaze she'd use while looking at a particularly nasty wound.

"Tell me what you know of these." Bellatrix said finally.

Hermione was silent for a moment, and looked up to meet Bellatrix's gaze.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." She replied.

The witch cocked a brow. "Try me."

Hermione let out a sigh, but after a moment, she spoke.

"The first one...he was someone I knew. Colin, from university. He knew I worked at the hospital, and needed money. I didn't realize until...after. I had no control over it. I was just _so angry_." Hermione's eyes looked far off, and they became lighter, or maybe it was just a trick of the light.

"After what?" Bellatrix asked, but her words fell on deaf ears.

"The second was a disgusting pig of a man. He tried to...take advantage of me. I had wanted to find you, to maybe talk about what happened, and I didn't know anywhere else to go but the café. He was waiting for me when it closed." Hermione clutched the picture in her hand and glared at the picture.

"I remembered a little more after that one. Flashes of smoke, these black, wispy tendrils entering his body, and then a sickening pop when it was over." She out the picture down and moved on.

"As for the others, it was a similar feeling. I couldn't control my anger, and I could feel it bubbling up out of me when something happened. But I couldn't make it stop. I didn't know what to do. And then I saw those wizards coming after me, and I panicked. I thought they were here to hurt me. But then I got angry, I thought that maybe you had sent them to spy on me, and that they were going to take me somewhere." Her eyes flashed with pain.

"I didn't mean for them to get hurt. I told them to stay away. But they wouldn't go. They laughed when I said I'd hurt them. And that made me very angry." No, Hermione's eyes were definitely getting lighter, and Bellatrix hesitantly put a hand on the fist the younger woman had formed on the table.

"Hey, it's alright, darling." She practically cooed. "We will figure this out, and we will fix this."

"Promise?" Hermione looked up at her, her eyes slowly darkening back to their natural color. She seemed so lost, so afraid, and all Bellatrix wanted to do was take her in her arms and protect her from whatever it was that was happening.

"I promise." She smiled, and Hermione smiled with her.

"Bellatrix?" Potter's voice came into the room, and she turned back to the window. "A word, please."

The witch looked to Hermione, who looked fearful. "It's going to be okay." She reminded her, and slowly headed out of the room, leaving a nervous Rabastan inside.

She walked into the observation room, where James stood watching Hermione.

"You called?" She said.

He tore his eyes away from the window and looked at her, his expression grim.

"What she's describing can't be possible." He said. "She has to be making it up."

Bellatrix frowned. "Why? What is it?"

He sighed, and motioned for her to take a seat. They both sat in a few chairs that had been provided for the room, and he ran a hand through his hair before continuing.

"What do you know of the Obscurus and Obscurial?" He asked after a moment.

"Absolutely nothing." Bellatrix admitted.

He leaned forward in his chair. "An Obscurial is a person, always a child, that has repressed their magical tendencies, through physical or psychological abuse. This repressed magical energy manifests itself as something dark, and hateful, taking all of the abuse, and anger, and sadness, and unbridled rage of the Obscurial, and becomes its own entity. An Obscurus. This Obscurus lives dormant inside of the Obscurial, and when the host becomes angry, or endangered, the Obscurus forces itself out."

"So, what you're saying," Bellatrix began, "Is that Hermione could be an Obscurial?"

He leaned back. "That's why I don't think this could be true. An Obscurus slowly eats away at its host, until the host is destroyed, which usually happens around the Obscurial's tenth birthday. The only exception was Credence Barebone, in the twenties, who lived to his early twenties, and that was because he was a very powerful wizard. It would be nearly impossible for Ms. Granger to be an Obscurial, seeing as she's in her late twenties, unless she's one of the most powerful, if not the most powerful witch the world has ever seen. Perhaps even more so than Morgana herself."

Bellatrix sat back in her seat, in awe. "Well, how do we know if it's true?"

Potter thought for a moment. "The wards put up in that room were put there by Dumbledore, myself, and Grindlewald before he became enamored with the dark arts. Even if she is as powerful as she'd have to be, she wouldn't be able to break out of that room. Get her angry, and then get out of there. She can rage until she tires herself out, and then we can work on fixing this."

"And what if it is true?" She asked.

"Well, the ministry still has Newton Scamander in the Floo network, and if need be, he can be contacted."

Bellatrix stood. "I do not feel that we should do anything without an expert on the subject being here."

Potter smiled. "I knew you'd say something like that. You're a fine Auror, Bellatrix. Truly."

He motioned to a corner of the room, where an old man sat, a quill in hand. He had horned glasses on his face, and was mostly bald, but he had a sort of smile in his eyes, even when his mouth didn't show it.

"Bellatrix Black?" He asked, standing and walking towards her.

"Yes?"

"Newton Scamander, at your service. I promise you, I will do everything in my power to protect you beloved."

Bellatrix blushed. "Well, she's not my...we're kind of..."

He smiled. "She's been watching the door since you left. Suffice to say that no matter what you are, she loves you. And that will come in handy."

She nodded. "So how do we help her?"

"Well," he began, opening the book he was writing in, "Mr. Potter is write on most accounts. However, the Obscurus is not the woman's magical power. It is, however, dark magic that she's picked up over the years, in the form of negative emotions. Mr. Potter looked through her memories when they brought her in, unbeknownst to her, and they saw the long history of abuse. They also saw her mother pleading for her not to be like her father."

"This, I believe, is where the Obscurus began. Her father was the abuser, yes. But it was her mother who put the hatred of magic into her, and from then on, with every instance of abuse, it wasn't her father hurting her. It was the magic. You can understand how this would be a catalyst for what she's become."

"If she's become it." Potter interjected.

Scamander looked to him. "There is no doubt in my mind that she has. Every Obscurus kills in a different way. Every Obscurus is different. I do believe that she could be an Obscurial, and I will treat it as such. But, we do have to prove it, and the best way to separate an Obscurus from the host is when it has manifested."

"So what's the plan?" Bellatrix was getting antsy.

"We will proceed like Mr. Potter has suggested. Anger her, make the Obscurus form, and try to reason with her. The best way to separate them is after the Obscurial overcomes the Obscurus. The only problem is when the Obscurial is too weak to live without the Obscurus. We can only hope that Hermione's magic will be enough to sustain her."

 **!**

Bellatrix re-entered the room, closing the door behind her and taking her seat again. She knew that it'd be easy to get Hermione riled up with Rabastan in the room.

"So. Good news is it isn't you." Bellatrix started carefully, watching Hermione's face.

"And the bad?" Hermione asked neutrally.

"You're a witch. Quite a powerful one at that." Bella let that sink in, and watched Hermione's brain working to process it.

She was silent, a slurry of emotions crossing her features. Finally, barely contained anguish won out, and she dropped her gaze to the table.

"...oh..."

That was not the reaction Bellatrix was hoping for. She needed something else. Something that would rile the younger woman up.

She looked to Rabastan, who was still eyeing the girl uneasily. He looked back at her.

"What did Potter say?"

"She's an Obscurial."

"Bloody hell!" Rabastan threw his hands up in frustration. The case was clearly getting to him, and Bellatrix needed him to go on one of his rants.

"So, let me get this straight," Rabastan started, glaring at Bellatrix. "Your ex-husband is in the worst prison in the wizarding world for following some lunatic who wanted to take over, and the woman you've moved on with is a bloody magic parasite? Was this coincidence, or do you try to outdo yourself every time?"

Hermione's eyes flashed to Bellatrix. "Ex-husband? You never told me you had an ex-husband."

"And you never told me your father was an abusive wizard." Bellatrix shot back. "Seems we've both been keeping secrets from each other."

Then it hit her. The best way to anger Hermione.

"Tell me about your father."

Hermione's back stiffened, and she glared at the Auror across the table

"Tell me about your ex-husband." She shot back.

Bella shook her head. "No, sweetheart. This isn't a game of back and forth. You've come in and confessed to multiple murders, and now I'm going to try to figure out what made you this way."

The younger woman crossed her arms. "Fine. Ask away." She said through gritted teeth.

"In your opinion, do you think he went easy on you because you were related, or did that mean he tortured you harder out of pleasure?"

Hermione drew back as if physically assaulted. "I-I don't know? What has this got to do with the investigation?"

"Where is your father now? Is he dead, too, or is he retired in the countryside, nice and cozy?"

"Bella. Stop." Her eyes flashed a brighter shade of brown, and she knew she was getting somewhere.

"Did he buy you nice things, and tell you it would never happen again, or were you never allowed the comfort of that façade?"

"Stop it, Bellatrix!" Tears pooled in her eyes as she glared at the older witch, and the air around them began to tingle.

Hermione couldn't stop trembling, and she felt something flowing through her. It felt like liquid fire, and yet, the pain felt amazing.

Bellatrix leaned forward, her hand reaching up and tucking a strand of hair behind Hermione's ear.

"Tell me, pet, did he steal into your room at night, and take everything from you? While you hoped he'd go away, did he creep closer and closer to your bed until-"

Hermione's eyes completely melting into milky white orbs made Bellatrix stop.

The runes in the room began to glow as the powerful protection charms fought Hermione's magic. The lights dimmed, and the whole room began to shake.

All the while, the two witches never broke eye contact. Bellatrix tried to place her hand over Hermione's, only to be pushed hard back into her seat by the younger woman.

"Hermione. Listen to me. Please." Bellatrix tried to reason.

The witch in question was beginning to fade into a black smoke that had begun pouring out of her clothes. Bellatrix couldn't help but note that this shouldn't have been possible in this room.

"This thing inside of you, you have to fight it. You can't let it win. If you want it gone, you have to beat it."

As Hermione's face became more and more obscured, Bellatrix saw her smile.

"But Bella, dear, I don't think I want to."

 **!**

"Bloody fucking hell."

Those were the perfect words to describe what had transpired, and in fact, were spoken aloud by Bellatrix as she stood inside of the gaping hole that was once the wall in front of her.

Hermione had, by all accounts, been more than strong enough to break the magical protection that was up within the interrogation room. She was a super compressed ball of matter just waiting for its Big Bang.

And Bellatrix had made that happen.

Now, well, those three words perfectly described the current predicament.

"Bloody fuckin' hell." Rabastan spoke from his spot next to her, his eyes scanning the hole in disbelief.

"So, to sum up," she began as Newt and Potter filed in, "We assumed that it would be an amazing idea to anger her, to bring this thing out. We also assumed that this room would be inescapable. And now, there's an extremely powerful, furious entity out there, the whereabouts of which are completely unknown."

"Sounds about right." Newt took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes for a moment.

"Great. Well, what's the plan now?"

Potter sighed. "We're going to have to figure out where she's off to, before she can cause too much damage. I'm not to proud to admit that I'm afraid of what this means about exposure to muggles. We must stop this, whatever it takes.

Bellatrix took her wand in her hand, her grip sure. She forced herself not to crack under the pressure she felt.

Her ex-lover was out there, probably destroying half the countryside. Bellatrix doubted she'd even listen to her at this point, which did not bode well for reasoning with her if and when they even found her. And from the way Potter spoke, the chances of Hermione surviving this encounter were slim to none.

No, Bellatrix had to be brave. She had to stay strong if there was any hope for Hermione.

"If you were an extremely miffed being, with what seems like too much power for one being to have, where would you go?" Scamander posed the question nonchalantly, as if it were something one would normally ask on a day to day basis.

Bellatrix thought for a moment. "Depends, I suppose, on what really got me so angry."

"Precisely. You brought up her father before. Do you have any idea where he's at?"

She bit her lip. "None. Hermione never talked about him. She always made sure to change the subject or just outright shut down."

Rabastan grabbed their cloaks from the other room and tossed them to their owners. "Well, if all else fails, why don't we just follow the rubble?"

 **!**

Following the rubble, as it turns out, only made the situation feel more dire.

They flew on broomstick as fast as they could, following the trail of destruction Hermione (Bellatrix refused to call her an Obscurial) had left.

Buildings had been ripped apart, as if blown up from the inside. Entire trains had been snatched up from their rails and thrown hundreds of yards away. Bridges had been split in half and thrown to either side of what they connected. And Bellatrix was sure the body count had to be nearing the hundreds by now.

Potter had been sending patronuses every few minutes, and from the sound of it, an entire battalion of witches and wizards had been rounded up to try to do damage control, charming witnesses and helping the wounded where they could.

"What do we do once we find her?" Bellatrix had called out to Scamander, who flew next to her.

"You have to reason with her. Convince her that this Obscurus is bad. It's been with her for years, and feels like a part of her, so she's not going to want to part with it. It has taken over a big part of her personality, which shows that it's affected her brain, so it's not going to be an easy fight. But you'll know it's working when she returns to human form, but with a black looking shadow feeding off her. After that, any sort of cutting spell aimed at those tendrils wrapped around her would work, and any binding spell would probably be enough to keep the Obscurus from going anywhere."

"Well, how do we convince her that it's best to part with it?"

"That, my dear, is a question I do not have the answer to."

As they flew, the area thankfully became less and less populated, with the city giving way to fields of grass and cattle. A clear path was cut into the ground, as a line of decay and death weaved itself through these fields, leaving nothing living in its wake.

The four of them followed the trail, which lead up to a quaint looking retirement home built on top of a hill. It was small, but very cozy looking, and would probably be completely ordinary if it weren't for the sounds of screaming and crashes going on throughout the home.

Bellatrix was the first to dismount, and headed inside before the others had even landed.

She entered, and the door slammed shut. She turned back to it, and heard her three companions beginning to beat on it, shouting words that Bellatrix couldn't quite make out over the sound of carnage. From the thuds against the door, she assumed hexes were being hurled at it, but if Hermione didn't want them in, they weren't coming in.

"Well, guess I'm doing this one solo." She took a breath and drew her wand.

"Hermione?" She called out, slowly making her way from the lobby. Even at the entrance, the witch could tell she was in for a gruesome night. Bodies were thrown around, and from the pained groans filling the air, some were still alive.

There were chunks of wall thrown on the floor, pictures were smashed to bits or sported angry slashes over them, statues were laying in pieces on the ground, and yet, Bellatrix felt no fear.

"Alright, Hermione. If I'm the only one you let in, there must be a reason, yeah? Do you want me to find you?"

No response.

Bellatrix sighed. _Why can't these things be a tad more helpful?_ She thought to herself as she made her way through the lobby.

She looked down onto the wooden floor and found a path carved into it, most likely the one Hermione took when she first got here. Bellatrix followed it up a flight of stairs and into what looked to be the attic.

There was a single window in this otherwise dark attic, though with the large black form in the room, it didn't help to illuminate it very much.

A rocking chair had been placed in the room, though it was overturned, and the poor soul who sat in it was currently suspended in the air.

"Hermione!" Bellatrix shouted, drawing her wand and silently casting lumos.

She could see more detail about the room, like how the poor soul was a man who hung by his feet in the air, and was quickly losing consciousness from the gashes that scored his back.

Bellatrix watched as a tendril separated from the inky black form, coiling back like a snake about to strike and slashing the man once more.

"Hermione! Put him down. He's doesn't deserve that!" She tried to reason with her.

A cold laugh chilled her bones. It sounded just like Hermione's, only it held none of her warmth, none of her happiness.

"But Bella dear, he deserves this and so much more." Her form was just visible through the blackness, and she stared back at her ex-lover with contempt.

"Dear old dad deserves so much more than what I'm doing right now."

She laughed again. "This is just a taste of what's to come."

Bellatrix stepped closer, and immediately, Hermione's eyes seemed to blaze with anger.

"Listen, Hermione. I understand that he completely deserves hell for what he did to you. He's a monster. But that doesn't mean you have to be, too."

She put her wand back in the holster on her wrist, and held her hands up in surrender.

You're so much better than this, my love. This thing inside of you, this Obscurus, is not who you are. It's clouding your judgement, making you a more angry and bitter person."

Hermione pulled her father into the blackness around her, and Bellatrix hoped that a lack of screams meant good things.

The younger woman stepped closer, her Obscurus following her.

"You were the first and only person who used magic that didn't hurt me." She started. "And, admittedly, I still harbor feelings for you. So I'll give you this chance."

The door behind Bellatrix opened, though she couldn't remember ever hearing it close.

"Leave. Leave and never come back. Never seek me out. Never try to track me down. You will never see me again."

Bellatrix turned on her heel and walked to the door.

She could feel Hermione's shock and disappointment following her as she reached the door.

Bellatrix grasped the wood in her hands, and slowly shut it. She turned back to Hermione, her face determined.

"If I leave this room, it's because I have you, or I'm dead. But I'm not going anywhere, Hermione. I love you too much to."

Hermione looked taken aback. Her eyes flashed their familiar hazel. It was enough to steel Bellatrix's resolve once more.

"You're better than this, Hermione. You're worth more than this. All of this destruction, all of this pain, it isn't you. You're a gentle, kind, loving person, who loves morning walks through the park and curling up next to me with a good book."

The pale witch drew her wand. "I want Hermione back. _My_ Hermione. And if you'll allow me to, I'd like to try to get her back."

Flashes of emotion played out across Hermione's face. Anger. Doubt. Fear. Finally, trust.

After a few tense moments, her father reappeared out of the darkness. His face was ashen, but he appeared to be alive.

Bellatrix smiled and stepped forward.

"We have to get this darkness away from you, Hermione." She said seriously. "It's eating you from the inside out."

The tendrils around Hermione recoiled, and wound themselves around her body. They knew they'd have to fight for their host.

"B-but how? Is there some sort of spell? Can't you just wave your stick and magic this thing off of me?" Her fear fed into it, and the Obscurus began to expand.

Bellatrix took Hermione's hand, and the tendrils wound themselves onto Bellatrix's pale fingers.

"It's not that easy, my love. You're an Obscurial, and there's never been a recorded case that an Obscurus has been separated from the Obscurial without the Obscurial dying in the process."

Hermione took a deep breath. "Then do it. I'm not afraid to die. I remember everything I did. Those poor people..."

"It wasn't you, darling." Bella soothed. "This thing corrupts the mind, forces you to drive on animalistic instinct instead of your morals, your ethics, your character."

She kissed Hermione's forehead. Her whole body was cool to the touch. "You are a kind, caring person. You heal people. You help them. This thing inside of you is not you. But we'll fix it. And you'll be free."

She raised her wand, and began to chant.

 **!**

"We are gathered here today, to celebrate the life that once was. The happiness our friend, our family, gave us before their life was tragically cut short."

The funeral was short and sweet. Bellatrix stood stone faced on the small plot of land, while the sniffles of the mourners could be heard all around.

"It is a shame when such a young life is cut so short, but the lord works in mysterious ways."

Bellatrix shouldn't be here. She should be at home, wrapped up with her love.

"Isn't it sad, Bella?" A voice cut through her thoughts, and she nodded wordlessly.

Of course it was sad.

No child should ever have to bury their pet.

"Of course it is, darling. The children loved Crookshanks."

She squeezed Hermione's hand as their eldest daughter finished the small ceremony they had, her eight year old hands clutching tightly to the small paper she'd written her eulogy on.

After the events at the home, magical law enforcement took Hermione and her father in. Hermione was found innocent, though she was under strict orders to learn her magic before it got the better of her.

Her father lives out the rest of his days in Azkaban.

Bellatrix and Hermione were married soon after, with two children, a boy and a girl, and a third on the way.

She looked at her son. He tried to be strong, but she could see tears threatening to spill from under his mop of dark curls.

Her eldest daughter was openly weeping. Crookshanks was her cat, her most beloved pet, and when she was hit by a car, the young girl didn't take it well.

Next to her, Hermione bit her lip, pulling Bellatrix's arm to her and resting her head on her shoulder.

Once the mock service was over, Bellatrix buried the cat the muggle way, the spade having been laid next to the hole she had dug.

"Now then." She wiped her brow and stabbed the spade into the filled earth.

"Who wants ice cream?"

 **!**

 **I don't think I'm happy with this, but I'm not sure why. That's true of all of my writing; I just can't quite put my finger on what I don't like, but I don't like it.**

 **Anyways, any and all feedback is appreciated! I'm sorry you all had to wait so long for this chapter, but it took forever and a day to write!**

 **Prompt (sort of): "Person A is an FBI agent hunting a serial killer when person B befriends them during the hunt and they continue getting closer until, eventually, they fall in love. Their relationship had been going well for weeks and that's when the killer slips up and person A finds them. The problem is that it's person B."**

 **This was actually the prompt I was struggling with when I wrote this one. It sorta kinda fits, but I think I'll revisit this later. I'm not sure.**

 **ALSO: I've just seen some requests for a continuation of "A Day at the Park" so if you're interested, I think a part two of that might be coming in the next few shorts. Just lemme know what you all would like to see; I know Sarah's a bit of a favorite, and a first date was mentioned, so just drop me a review/ pm!**

 **Anyways, have a good one, and I'll see you next chapter!**


	5. Chicken Parmesan and Baked Beans

**Hey all! This is a special chapter, because it's my first prompt sent in by a reader! I'm absolutely thrilled to do this, even though I'm usually terrible at stories of this nature. So, bellatrixandhermionee, I hope this is as good as you hope!**

 **!**

It was nine o' clock on a Saturday, and the regular crowd shuffled into The Three Broomsticks. Night had fallen, and the witches and wizards that filled the bar were looking for a bit of a reprieve from the woes they had.

Bellatrix was no different, though she hid her pain behind her usual mask of disdain. It got the job done; nobody dared approach the dark witch, instead watching the live music on the stage that had been recently built in.

Were anyone to look further, however, they might see the pain in her eyes, or the way they would well up if she glanced over her shoulder for more than a second, stealing glances at a beautiful brunette in a booth in the corner of the bar.

But they didn't, and Bella thanked the gods for that.

She didn't mean to find her, of all people, on this very night. Hermione Granger had torn her heart out of her chest cavity and tossed it aside like it was nothing, all for the ginger haired boy that sat opposite of her. They laughed, shared drinks, and held hands over the table for far longer than Bellatrix would like. She could see the longing in the boy's eyes, and she couldn't blame him. Her ex lover was an alluring creature, and anyone, male or female, would be so lucky to share a bed with her.

As she tossed back shot after shot of Firewhiskey, she thought of how they'd gotten into this fucked up situation in the first place.

 _ **Flashback**_

 _"Leaving? Why? For how long?" Bellatrix's voice dripped with anxiety; anyone's would, if their lover had just barged into the home they shared and announced they were leaving._

 _"Yes, Bellatrix. I'm leaving." Hermione's, on the other hand, was eerily calm. The other witch couldn't get a read on what her young lover was thinking._

 _"I'm leaving, and I'm leaving forever." The words cut her like a knife, and she fought to keep herself upright._

 _She was silent for a few moments, then swallowed and asked the question she already knew the answer to._

 _"It's the Weasley boy, isn't it?" She asked in a low voice, her back ramrod straight._

 _Hermione took a breath, and then nodded. "Ron loves me. I know he does. I should never have started this," she gestured between the two of them, "in the first place. It wasn't fair to either of us."_

 _Ron had left Hermione shortly after the two graduated Hogwarts. Bellatrix had met the younger witch a few weeks after, literally bumping into her in a potions shop while buying a potion to cure the cold she'd come down with, shattering the potion just after she'd bought it._

 _Hermione had apologized profusely, and offered to buy her a new one. Bellatrix, already taken with Hermione, had instead proposed she pay for lunch as repayment. Hermione, who had never even had feelings for a woman before, accepted._

 _That was two years ago, and Bellatrix had fallen head over heels for her younger witch, if the engagement ring burning a hole in her pocket had anything to say about it._

 _"I was never really gay, Bella. You were comfortable. Safe. You took care of me." Hermione went on, ignoring how every remark made Bellatrix wince in pain._

 _"But Ron recently called me up, said he wanted to fix things, to try to make it work. I told him yes. That was a few months ago."_

 _It felt as if someone had run Bella through with a knife. Not only was Hermione leaving, she had cheated on her?_

 _"My things are already packed." With a wave of her wand, suitcases Bellatrix hadn't noticed levitated from their bedroom and next to their owner._

 _"Goodbye, Bellatrix Black. May you find your happiness."_

 _As the door closed, one thought ran through her mind._

 _How was she to find her happiness when it just ran into the arms of an ex lover?_

 _ **End Flashback**_

That had been a few months ago, and it still stung to think about.

"Drinkin' alone again, Black?" Her pest of a cousin, Sirius, sidled up next to her and signaled the bartender for a drink.

"Nobody asked you, you miserable twit." She growled, slamming back another shot.

"Maybe not verbally, but you know you were never able to hide anything from me." He shot her a wide grin, one that made her want to punch his perfect teeth right out of his bloody face.

"Listen, Sirius." She sighed. "I want to be alone. Let me wallow in self pity by myself."

He just laughed. "And miss the entertainment? No way, dear cousin." He sipped the butterbeer that had appeared in front of him.

"Seeing as how you're here, and your wild haired lover is over there with the least attractive Weasley boy, I'd say trouble in paradise?"

She chuckled ruefully. "You could say that. She left me for that ginger haired newt sitting in front of her. And on the same night I'd planned to propose."

"Propose?" Sirius asked. She'd forgotten he wasn't familiar with muggle customs.

"It's a muggle tradition. I'd researched t after Hermione mentioned it. Apparently, you get a ring with a very large gem on it, and that means that you promise to only love the person you give it to. Then, there's a ceremony, where both people give one another rings and promise their lives to each other."

Sirius looked confused. "So, one only has one ring, and the other has two? A bit selfish, if you ask me."

"I didn't." She ordered a water, feeling her head already getting fuzzy.

"Well, you know what I think?" He asked, a mischievous grin forming on his face.

She never liked that grin. It always came before something she knew she'd be roped into. Bellatrix still had the scar on her stomach from when he thought it would be a good idea to try to climb the Whomping Willow.

"You don't think." Bellatrix pointed out.

He nodded, agreeing with her as he drank more out of his glass. "Fair point."

They sat in silence for a moment, before she sighed and decided to humor him.

"What do you think?" She huffed.

His grin was back in place. "You should sing tonight. Sign yourself up and give it a go."

Bellatrix turned and looked at her cousin as if he'd grown a second head.

"Are you insane? She'd see me! I'd rather not have to deal with that tonight, thank you."

Sirius' grin only widened. "Well that's too bad. I've already signed you up."

"Will Bellatrix Black please come to the stage?" A booming voice was heard after the last person hit their final note.

"I'm going to hex you into oblivion." Bellatrix growled, her hand going to her wand.

"Ah ah ah!" Sirius silently disarmed his cousin and tucked the wand into his robes. "If you want it back, you'll sing. Otherwise, I'll snap it."

"You snap my wand, and I'll snap your neck." She seethed.

He simply winked. "Go get 'em, tiger."

The pale witch felt eyes following her as she slowly made her way to the stage, but she refused to look and see who it was that was staring.

She got to the stage, and found that there were instruments, but no players.

"How is this supposed to work..?" She asked the man that stood beside the stage, who had just called her name.

"The instruments are charmed to play any song you want. All you have to do is think of it and grab the mic stand." He explained.

"Any song?" She asked.

"Any song." He nodded, and motioned for her to try it.

Hesitantly, her hand wrapped itself around the stand. After a few seconds, the music began, though she couldn't tell where it was coming from.

She took a deep breath. This wasn't the song she'd been thinking of. This was the song she'd been wallowing in self pity to, sitting in the bedroom she used to share with the love of her life with it playing on the radio.

Bellatrix closed her eyes, and began to sing.

 _She told me that she loved me by the water fountain._

 _She told me that she loved me and she didn't love him._

 _And that was really lovely 'cuz it was innocent._

 _But now she's got a cup with something else in it,_

The song fit too well, and Bellatrix finally opened her eyes to find Hermione staring at her with an unreadable expression.

 _It's getting kinda blurry at a quarter past ten._

 _And he was in a hurry to be touching her skin._

 _She's feeling kinda dirty when she's dancing with him,_

 _Forgetting what she told me by the water fountain._

She felt the tears in her eyes, but refused to let them fall, instead staring defiantly at Hermione. She wouldn't back down. She hoped that her ex lover could see all the hurt in her face that she'd left when she left her.

 _Now he's grabbing her hips,_

 _And pulling her in,_

 _Kissing her lips,_

 _And whispering in_

 _Her ear and she's knows that she shouldn't listen,_

 _And that she should be with me by the water fountain._

Hermione was gathering her things at this point, but said something to Ron to make him stay.

She left the bar, though she could still hear Bellatrix's voice.

Putting her back against the front of the bar and sliding down, she let the tears fall freely.

 _She couldn't be at home in the night time because,_

 _It made her feel alone but at that time she was_

 _Too young._

 _I was too young._

She missed Bellatrix more than anything. It was a mistake ever leaving her. Ron never bothered to learn the little things about her: her favorite color, the exact type of chocolate she wanted when she'd had a bad day, what side of the bed she prefers to sleep on. Bellatrix always did.

And she threw that away. For what? For a stupid relationship that should've been left in the past.

 _I should've built a home with a fountain for us,_

 _The moment that she told me that she was in love,_

 _Too young,_

 _I was too young._

Bellatrix had no idea why she was continuing this. Wand or not, it hurt so badly. She hoped, wherever Hermione had run off to, she could hear this. She needed to know just how badly Bella hurt.

 _And if she ever goes back to the water fountain,_

 _The handle will be broken and the rust set in,_

 _But my hand it will be open and I'll try to fix it._

 _My heart it will be open and I'll try to give it._

As Hermione sat outside the bar, she thought about what she wanted. Truth be told, she wanted nothing more than to run inside and beg for forgiveness at Bella's feet. But, perhaps it was too late.

 _Now I'm grabbing her hips,_

 _And pulling her in,_

 _Kissing her lips,_

 _And whispering in,_

 _Her ear and I know that it's only a wish._

 _And that we're not standing by the water fountain._

 _Too young._

Bellatrix was glad the song was almost over. Standing up there hurt worse than any Cruciatus curse she could think of.

 _I should've built a home with a fountain for us,_

 _The moment that she told me that she was in love,_

 _Too young._

 _I was too young._

Bellatrix finished, and stood onstage for a few seconds as the patrons clapped for her. She nodded awkwardly, and made her way back to Sirius.

"Wand." She stuck her hand out to him.

He shot her another grin, but relinquished the wand.

She took it, and made her way to the exit. She wanted nothing more than to go home and lay in bed with the lights off until sleep finally took her to a better pla-

"Bellatrix."

She froze. Her back stiffened, and she immediately put on her mask of indifference mixed with disdain. Growing up in pure blood culture had its perks.

"Hermione." She didn't turn around, merely turned her head to speak over her shoulder without looking at her.

After a few seconds of silence, Bellatrix scoffed and began to walk away.

"Bellatrix." Another few steps.

"Bellatrix?" She rounded the corner. She cursed herself for being slightly inebriated, wanting nothing more than to just apparate home. But she could hear Hermione following her.

 _Just a little further,_ she told herself, eyeing the public Floo network like a lifeline.

"Bellatrix!" Her pace was quick, and she made it in a few more seconds. She quickly grabbed some of the powder and tossed it into the fire.

"Pixie House." Bellatrix said firmly. It was the name Hermione had given the home they shared when they first moved in.

She went to step into the flames when a hand caught her arm and pulled her back.

"Bellatrix, _please._ " Her back was still to Hermione, but she felt the other witch rest her forehead in between her shoulder blades.

Arms hesitantly wrapped themselves around her waist, and Bellatrix felt more intoxicated by the smell of her ex lover than by any of the drinks she'd had that night.

She felt herself slipping, wanting nothing more than to turn and take Hermione in her arms. But she refused to let herself be that weak.

Bellatrix stepped away from Hermione, ripping her arms off of her like they were ropes that bound her.

"What? What do you want?" Bellatrix finally turned around and took in Hermione's appearance.

Her hair was disheveled, and her eyes were puffy and red, though that didn't hide the bags under them.

She looked rough, and beautiful all at once.

"I-I just want to talk." She said, her voice small as vulnerable.

Bellatrix couldn't stop the astonished scoff that left her mouth.

"Oh, you wanted to talk now?" She asked incredulously. "Not all of the times I tried to get into contact with you? Not after all of the owls I sent, all of the times I showed up at your door like some pathetic little stray puppy?"

She turned back to the Floo. "No, you don't get to speak. Not after everything you did."

"Bellatrix, I love you!" The desperation in Hermione's voice was apparent.

Bellatrix felt her heart stop. That's all she'd wanted to hear, in all of the fantasies she'd had of Hermione coming back.

She felt herself shaking. "How...how _dare_ you!" She turned back to Hermione, rage in her eyes.

"How dare you put me through everything you put me through! How dare you have the nerve to say that, after tearing my heart to pieces and ignoring me for _months!_ How dare you think that you can just waltz back to me and expect me to accept you with open arms!"

Her finger kept jabbing into Hermione's chest, pushing her back and making her wince with the force.

"You can't love me. You aren't gay, remember?" She spat, putting her hand down and giving Hermione a scathing look.

"Can I please just explain myself?" Hermione begged, her eyes shining with tears.

"You already did, and don't worry, darling, I perfectly understood the first time." Bellatrix turned back around to the Floo, her voice cold. "Send my thanks to the Weasel. At least it happened before I asked for your hand. That would've made things much more complicated."

"W-what?" Hermione's voice quivered.

Bellatrix pulled the ring from its place, hanging on a necklace that she'd tucked into her dress. She angrily snapped the chain off of her neck, turning to throw it at Hermione's feet.

"That night you left. I had a beautiful night planned. Dinner, chicken parmesan, your favorite, a movie, some terrible romantic comedy I knew you would've loved. Rose petals sprinkled on the bed. Your favorite wine chilled on the nightstand. I was going to propose to you that night. I'd researched muggle customs just for you. I wanted to do it right."

Bellatrix was freely crying, and Hermione placed a hand in her shoulder, only to have it violently shrugged off.

"But you went and fucked everything up. You cheated on me, and left me for him. He's not even cute. Bloody troll, if you ask me."

The tears stopped flowing, a steely expression taking over as Bella wiped her eyes.

"Well, I hope you're happy with him. Because I never want to see you again, Hermione Granger. I love you so much it hurts, but I refuse to be your plaything."

As Hermione sat in stunned silence, Bellatrix stepped through the Floo network, and collapsed into a heap on the other side.

 **!**

A few months later, and Bellatrix almost felt healthy again. She still spent most nights laying in bed, staring up at her ceiling, but she was getting out more.

Sirius dropped by a few times, and she knew he was worried about her, no matter how he may have tried to hide it by getting under her skin.

She had just come home from a night out with her cousin, when she sensed a presence in her home.

Bellatrix shrugged off her cloak, placing it on the rack by the door and drawing her wand.

She smelled something delightful coming from the kitchen, but it didn't make sense.

Why would someone break into her home just to make dinner?

It dawned on her, and she grit her teeth. If Hermione thought she could just waltz in here and...

Bellatrix rounded the corner and her heart broke. Her wand lowered, and she just stared at the muggleborn looking back at her with a hopeful expression.

"I...I wanted to make it up to you." Hermione bit her lip, gauging her ex lover's reaction before deciding to continue.

"I made spaghetti. It might be terrible, but to my defense you're the better cook." She gave an uncomfortable smile, and Bella just continued to stare at her like she'd suddenly caught fire.

"I also have The Devil's Rejects waiting on the tele. I know you like the horror movies where the bad guys win." She offered, her hands wringing themselves in front of her.

Bellatrix said nothing. She couldn't. She never expected to see Hermione again.

The silence only made Hermione's anxiety grow. She wanted nothing more than to abscond, but that would only prove she hadn't changed.

"I-I had hoped that, maybe, we could talk over dinner, and maybe watch a movie?" Her voice was barely audible, and she was holding back tears. Hermione knew her plan was stupid, but dammit, she missed her witch, if she was still hers.

"What's there to talk about?" Bellatrix finally spoke, her voice low. "You made yourself clear. Made your choice. Now you live with the consequences."

Hermione closed her eyes. She would _not_ cry. She didn't deserve to.

"I made a mistake, Bellatrix. Loads of them, actually. Leaving you was the biggest. Getting back with Ron was a close second. Seriously, he's a total git."

Bellatrix couldn't help but crack a smile, which quickly died when she thought of said git's hands all over Hermione.

"And you still stayed with him. Kissed him. Touched him. _Fucked_ him. So pardon me for holding onto my sympathy."

"Bellatrix." Hermione sighed. She slowly stepped forward, as if trying to pet a wild animal. "We didn't do anything more than kiss while we were together. Not for lack of want on his part. But it never felt right."

She chuckled. "Did you know that in these past seven months, he still refused to meet my parents? And he thought my favorite food was baked beans? I've never even eaten baked beans in front of him!"

She stopped in front of Bellatrix, who pinned her with a blank stare. Hermione took her hands gently.

"I left him. I realized, perhaps too late, that I had something better all along. You know my favorite things, know how to hold me when I cry, know what to say to make my bad days good. I was a fool to give that up. A stupid fool."

She took a breath and let it out. "And, if you'll let me, Bella, I'd like to someday be worthy of this again."

She untucked the necklace she'd been wearing to reveal the ring Bellatrix had thrown at her feet. Gently, she reached behind her neck and unclasped it, revealing that she'd mended the chain.

Hermione took the older witch's hand and placed the chain and ring in it, then closed it.

She looked back up at Bellatrix. Here she was, heart and soul bared to her, and prepared to fight for her. People like her witch only came around once in a lifetime, and she had foolishly squandered her chance at true happiness. She just hoped she could get it back.

Bellatrix stared at her hand, the chain and ring burning a hole in her palm. She tucked it into her pocket and walked past Hermione without a second glance, headed to the kitchen.

Hermione closed her eyes. Maybe she'd truly lost her. She cursed herself for being so blind to what she had when they were together. Maybe then she'd still be with-

Bellatrix poked her head out of the kitchen doorway. There was a slight bit of sauce on her lip, and Hermione knew it was from her habit of sampling the sauce before she got a plate. She couldn't help but smile.

"Are you coming, or have you been cemented to the floor? The food's getting cold."

 **!**

 **That's a wrap! The prompt is from bellatrixandhermionee, who said, "Bellatrix can actually sing and sang a song in a bar that was directed towards Hermione after a breakup. (Breakup meaning they both didn't wanna break up but misunderstandings, blah blah)**

 **Hermione is at that bar. Bellatrix sees her, looks at her with despair and anguish and Hermione left, slid down the wall outside and cried (while she listened to her sing)."**

 **It was really fun to write, and I'm so happy that I got a fan request! I really hope it's every bit as good as hoped for, and for those of you who caught it, the beginning sentence is from Piano Man by Billy Joel.**

 **Lastly, the song used in this is By The Water Fountain by Alec Benjamin. It's super good, so go check it out!**

 **Other than that, let me know what you thought, and I'll see you all next chapter!**


	6. Weathered, Eternal Grace

**Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, any and all other gender identities, welcome. Welcome to another chapter!**

 **I dunno, long greetings felt necessary.**

 **ANYWAYS.**

 **This is the part-two of the one-shot I wrote a little while back, A Day at the Park. I've gotten a few requests for it, so I figure eh, why the hell not?**

 **Before we get started, if you haven't already, read part one (if you haven't read it, I'm honestly slightly concerned that there are MONSTERS out there skipping chapters in stories who even does that get help pls).**

 **Other than that, sit back, relax, keep all appendages in the vehicle at all times, and enjoy!**

 **!**

"Ronald Billius Weasley, when are you going to grow up and realize that you have a daughter who needs to know her father?" Hermione spoke angrily into the fireplace.

On the other side, said man sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Look, I'm sorry that you won't be able to go on your _date_ ," Ron said the word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth, "but I can't just cancel all of my plans because you decided to take a day off from being Sarah's primary care giver. Which, need I remind you, was what you wanted in the first place?"

Hermione sighed. She should've known Ron was going to react this way. He was originally going to watch their daughter so that Hermione could "visit her mum", but Ron had caught wind of her date via interrogating Harry, and had a conniption.

"Fine. Whatever. I should've expected as much. But honestly, Ronald, you need to be a bigger part of her life. As it stands, Sarah sees the mail man more than you, and since all of my letters are delivered by owl, that's saying something."

Just as she was about to put the flames out, she heard a desperate "Wait!" and stopped.

"Yes, Ronald? Is there anything else you'd like to say?" She asked, feeling her eyebrow begin to twitch with irritation.

He sighed. "I really haven't been there for Sarah, have I?"

Hermione was silent. She studied his image in the flames, waiting for this to be a lead in for some kind of bad joke.

When nothing was said, she crossed her arms. "No. No, Ron, you haven't."

He ran a hand through his hair. "It's just...she looks so much like you! She already acts so much like you. When I have her, do you know how many books she reads through? And she has questions about everything! Sometimes ones I can't even answer! It hurts."

"Trust me, Ron, I know it hurts." She dropped her arms and stared at his face. "You don't think I see your face staring back at me when I see her? She loves quidditch, but refuses to watch it because she wants to watch the matches with you. You're her father, and she misses you."

He was silent for a few moments, mulling over her response. Finally, in a meek voice, he responded.

"I've been a total git about this, haven't I?"

Hermione broke into a smile. "Yes. Yes you have."

His face cracked into a smile of his own, and for a moment, they were teenagers again. Not lovers, not engaged, just two friends trying to pass their O.W.L.'s.

"Well, I hear there's a match in town, and I'm sure I could get tickets before they sellout. Maybe after that I could take her by the bookstore and buy her a few things. I'm sure she's running out of books for her reading level, anyways."

Hermione broke into a grin. "I think she'd really like that. Though I do suggest buying some chocolate frogs at the match. She always says it's not a quidditch match-"

"-Without a good chocolate frog. Honestly, Hermione, who do you think taught her that?" He feigned a hurt expression, and she rolled her eyes.

"I'll be over by 6 o' clock, scout's honor. And Hermione?"

She looked up at him, about to put he fire out and get ready for tonight.

"Have fun on your date, yeah?"

 **!**

The brunette witch was finally ready, after hours of preparation, to get on with the night.

She wore a dark emerald sees that clung to her figure, and stopped a little above her knee. Her hair was up in a loose bun, with her bangs straightened and tucked behind her ear. Hermione's makeup was enough to give her a natural glow, and she finished the look with a small silver hand bag.

The only problem?

Her date was late.

Bellatrix and Hermione had spoken almost as soon as Hermione got home that day, and when they set the date, they agreed on 7 o' clock sharp.

It was currently 7:26, with no sign of the darker witch.

The muggleborn sighed, and plopped down on her couch. She'd give Bellatrix four more minutes, and then change into comfy pants and an oversized t-shirt and go through a pint of her favorite chocolate chip ice cream.

Thirty two minutes later, Hermione had just settled in to watch Beauty and the Beast, when there was a knock on her door. Confused, Hermione grabbed her wand and headed for the door.

She cautiously opened it, to find Bellatrix standing in front of her, worrying her lower lip.

She wore an elegant black dress that reached the floor, and what Hermione assumed as her usual corset. Her hair was slightly more tamed, and she held a single red rose in her hand.

As Hermione studied her, she noticed the slight rips in her dress, and the blood on her face.

"What happened?" She asked, her irritation melting away. She stepped forward, her mothering instinct taking over as she checked the pale witch for injuries.

Moving her hair out of the way, Hermione saw small cuts that looked to be partially healed, but not completely. It was as if someone healed them, but lacked the knowledge of healing spells needed to do so fully.

"My nephew's damned cat got ahold of me right before I left. I'm fine, though, really!" She said hurriedly, attempting to step out of Hermione's grasp.

"Nonsense. Come inside, Sarah's rough enough that I've picked up a few things from it."

As the two witches entered the small house, Hermione mentally went through all of the times her daughter needed healing. From a broken wrist falling off her training broom, to the flu after running around outside without shoes, her daughter was quite the little adventurer.

Hermione waved her wand in a circular motion around Bellatrix's face and neck. Slowly, the marks dulled, fading out and looking as though they'd been there a few days.

"I'll need to brew a potion for the rest of it, I'm afraid. Or at least a salve." Hermione bit her lip worriedly.

"You don't have to do that. I know we're probably cutting dinner reservations close." Bellatrix replied quietly.

Hermione shot her a smile. "We actually missed them half an hour or so ago. Not to worry, I must say my sandwiches are _divine_ , if my daughter has any say in the matter."

Bella seemed taken back. "I couldn't...I mean, I wouldn't want to impose..."

Hermione waved her off. "Nonsense. After your encounter with such a ferocious feline, you're probably a little uneasy around them. Let me introduce you to one that's just grumpy all the time."

She turned, "Crookshanks!"

 **!**

And that's how the two witches ended up on Hermione's couch, a bowl of popcorn and a plate of sandwiches between them, and a large, grumpy cat taking up all space on Bella's lap.

"Honestly, why is Lovett throwing herself at a man who is so obviously still in love with his dead wife?" Bellatrix scoffed, rubbing the large tabby's head. He purred his response, still managing a look of irritation despite the attention.

"Well, think about it from her perspective. There's a man who kills people, providing her pie shop with meat. He gives her things, provides for her, and in exchange? She disposes of the bodies and keeps her mouth shut." Hermione gave her a pointed look, one that she couldn't keep up, opting instead for sending a smile to her instead.

Bellatrix found herself to be content. They'd talked earlier, while Hermione showed her how to use the more muggle objects in her kitchen, about their lives.

Both were divorced, and both hadn't really had a date since. It could be argued whether or not watching a musical-turned-movie about a serial killer, still in formalwear, in the living room of Hermione's house actually constituted as a date, but both witches didn't seem to mind.

"I could definitely see you as Mrs. Lovett, you know." Hermione brought up, popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

Bellatrix looked as if she'd been insulted. "I'll have you know I have nothing in common with that _cow_! And I'm much more attractive."

Hermione thought she'd genuinely offended the pureblood, until she saw the edges of her lips turn up.

"I'd have to agree with you there." Hermione chuckled.

A moment of silence fell on the two, until Bella asked in a quieter voice,

"So, what's so similar about the two of us?"

Hermione turned back to her, then to the movie. "Well, both of you have this beauty about you, like life has tried to break you, and yet here you are. A sort of weathered, eternal grace, if you will. While Mrs. Lovett throws herself at Sweeney, she didn't need him to run her shop. She'd been running it for quite some time on her own, and while conditions weren't ideal, she got by."

"I suppose what I'm trying to say is, you're both survivors, and beautiful ones at that."

Upon noting the atmosphere of the room changing, she added, "And you both look good in a corset."

Bellatrix chuckled, but didn't remark on the short speech, choosing instead to pretend to watch the rest of the film while mulling over Hermione's words.

They settled into a comfortable silence, and after spending half the movie trying to muster up the courage, Hermione reached over and took Bella's hand.

Bellatrix showed no reaction to this on her face, but she squeezed Hermione's hand gently, hiding her smile behind a turkey sandwich.

!

All too soon, the movie was over, and Ron would be back with Sarah in a half hour.

"I had a great time, Hermione. Really." Bellatrix smiled and gave the other witch a hug.

"I'm glad. Perhaps next time we get dressed up, we could exit the house." Hermione joked goodnaturedly. In all reality, this first date had been the best she'd ever had.

Granted, she only had two, but still.

"We shall have to see." Bellatrix sent her a wink and took a pinch of Floo powder from by the fireplace.

"Malfoy Manner." She spoke clearly.

"Wait, Malfoy? As in Draco, Narcissa, and Lucius Malfoy?" Hermione asked.

Bellatrix turned back to her, confused. "Yes? Why, do you know them?"

Hermione bit back all of the venom she had towards the Malfoys, realizing in that moment, that it didn't matter that they looked down on her. Bellatrix knew what she was, a muggleborn, and chose to come on this date anyways. That had to mean something.

"Not too well." Hermione lied. "I just went to school with Draco. We didn't really talk much."

Bellatrix nodded, confused as to why that information warranted such a reaction.

Before she could, however, Draco's voice filled the room.

"Aunty Bella!" He exclaimed, his voice sounding pained. Hermione stepped away from the fire to give them some privacy.

"Draco? Are you alright?" Her voice dropped with concern, and although Hermione couldn't make out what was going on, she knew it couldn't be good.

"Do I look alright!?" He exclaimed. "This cat is the devil incarnate! It hates me! The little 'love bites' as you call them, that the little ball of anger gives tore a chunk out of my ear. My ear!" Judging from the wince that graced Bella's features, all was not well at home.

Bellatrix turned back to her, biting her lip nervously.

"Forgive me if I'm being too forward, but do you think, perhaps, you could help my nephew?"

Hermione was silent for a moment. She knew that, if Bella was related to the Malfoys, and this relationship was going anywhere, she'd have to deal with Draco sooner or later.

"Of course." Hermione smiled, which felt more like a grimace. "Tell him to step in."

!

Draco stepped through the fire, looking bloody and battered, and immediately honed in on Hermione.

" _Granger_? The little mudblood? _Really_ , Aunty Bella?" He wrinkled his nose at her, as if she emitted a bad odor.

Bellatrix flicked his bloody ear. "Who I choose to spend my time with is not for my bratty little nephew to decide. Besides," she motioned to where Hermione was gathering the salve she'd made earlier, trying to ignore the two purebloods in her home, "that girl had shown more brains in the short amount of time I've known her, than you have in twenty five years."

Draco looked hurt, and Hermione coughed to hide her smile. She applied the salve to the worst of Draco's wounds, thinking back on all the times in school she would've loved to have been the one to give them to him.

A knock on the door roused her from her thoughts, and a quick glance to the clock on the wall told her that it was her ex and her child.

Fantastic.

Opening the door slightly, she saw a grinning Sarah perched on her father's shoulders. Both had chocolate smudged on their faces, and they both giggled as if standing there was the funniest thing in the world.

"Mama!" Sarah called out. "Today was awesome! The Harpies won, but the Cannons didn't make it easy for them!"

Ron puffed his chest out. "That's right! The Cannons never give up!"

"Dad even got me my very own snitch!" The little girl held her hand out, and a slightly larger version of a golden snitch fluttered just above her palm.

"It's a little bigger, and a little slower, so she doesn't go too fast or stop paying attention." Ron explained after seeing the worry on Hermione's face.

He gently took Sarah off of his shoulders, and Hermione took her and held her to her chest. She drifted off in a matter of moments, tired from the days events.

"Thank you for this, Ron. It meant a lot...to both of us." Hermione gave her ex a small smile, one that he returned.

"I plan on doing right by her. I was a total arse when she was born, but I'm going to be the father she deserves. I promise you that, Hermione." He said with a deadly seriousness.

She smiled, and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "If you believe that, Ronald, then you already are."

A loud bang coming from her home made them both jump, and Ron had his wand out and was stepping inside before Hermione knew what was going on.

"Ministry of Magic! Come out with your hands up!" His voice projected.

"Ron! That won't be necessary. I have a few guests ov-" Hermione tried, but was cut off.

" _Weasley_? You're also seeing _Weasley_?" Draco's incredulous voice carried from in front of Ron, and Hermione groaned.

"Draco Malfoy is your date?!" Ron's face was getting a brighter shade of red with each passing second.

"I can explain if you'd just give me-" Hermione stepped out from behind Ron, only for her ex husband to whirl on her.

"Do you not remember all of the muggleborn slurs he threw your way? All of the taunts, the jeers, having to keep your head up because all of the teachers turned a blind eye?"

"She may, but I assure you, I did not, and my nephew here and I will have to have a talk when we get home." An eerily calm voice came from behind Draco.

Bellatrix stepped in front of her nephew and stretched her hand out to Ron.

"My name is Bellatrix Black. I was Hermione's date tonight, and suffice to say I'm the reason it is currently going downhill." She flashed Hermione an apologetic look, which calmed the muggleborn's nerves a little.

"Ronald Weasley. Hermione's hus-" he cleared his throat, knowing it made Hermione uncomfortable to still call himself her husband, "Hermione's ex-husband."

"And I'm Sarah!" The commotion had woken the little girl up, and she grinned happily at the two people in her home.

Sarah wriggled her way out of her mother's grasp and went to the only unfamiliar face in the room.

"Who are you? And what happened to your face?" She asked, pulling on the leg of Draco's pants. Ron looked ready to murder the blond, and Hermione prayed that he didn't mess this up.

Draco calmly kneeled down to be face to face with Sarah, a smile spreading on his features.

"I'm Draco. And I got all beat up hunting _dragons_." He lied, and drew his wand.

Draco muttered something under his breath, and a small dragon made of fire shot out, curling around Sarah. Hermione and Ron were about to step in, when they heard something.

Sarah was _giggling_. The flames were tickling her.

She shrieked with laughter, and her happiness was infectious, with smiles blooming on the adults' faces.

Draco called back the little dragon, and stood. "See? You've got to be careful. They're dangerous little buggers, those dragons."

Sarah nodded, her face deadly serious. "I'll be careful. Pinky swear."

And with that, she went back to her parents.

"Here," Ron picked Sarah up and settled her on his hip. "I can put her to bed, if you want. She's been asking if I'd read her a bedtime story since the match ended."

He smiled sheepishly, and Hermione smiled back. "Of course. Upstairs, second door on the left."

As he disappeared up the stairs, she let out a sigh of relief. That could've gone so much worse.

"Grang- err, Hermione." Draco rubbed the back of his neck, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Yes?" She asked, confused.

"Look, I'm sorry about Hogwarts. I was a total git." He finally looked up at her and held her gaze for a moment.

"It's alright, Draco. I forgave you years ago. No point in holding grudges for schoolyard activities." She smiled.

"That still doesn't excuse your behavior today, my dear nephew." Bellatrix clapped a hand on his shoulder, over a scratch that hadn't been healed yet.

"Guess who gets to clean out the thestral stables?"

He groaned, but nodded, and stepped back into the fire.

"I'm sorry about all of this." Bellatrix said once her nephew stepped through.

Hermione smiled. "Don't be. Had to happen sooner or later, especially if you're planning on taking me out."

Bellatrix looked at her, confused.

"Oh yes, Ms. Black. Don't think you can show up late when I had reservations and not expect to take me out as compensation." She continued in a haughty voice.

The pale witch felt a smile grace her features as she bowed deeply and dramatically.

"I wouldn't dream of it, Ms. Granger. Say, Friday, same time?"

 **!**

 **Well there ya go! I know it was a little scatterbrained, and I do apologize for that. However, aside from this not being proofread, as I was in a hurry to get it out before I went to work, I was also thinking that maybe my oneshots were getting...predictable.**

 **That's boring.**

 **And in a pairing as unpredictable as Hermione and Bellatrix, I figured hey, let's try something new.**

 **Lastly, Ron suddenly being a nicer person stems from me reading some of the older stories, and seeing the ones that have Ron not being a total ass. I kinda liked it, and wanted to try it out.**

 **Lemme know what you all thought, and I'll see you in the next chapter!**


	7. Black and White

**Hello all! I really appreciate everyone who told me what they thought of my last chapter, first and foremost. Like I'm sure I've said before, I'm never happy with my writing, so it's nice to hear another opinion.**

 **Secondly, I've decided, with help from a few lovely readers, that I'll keep the previous chapter up. I like to think it's kinda funny or something maybe? Some people seemed to enjoy it so if you all are happy then I am.**

 **Third(ly?), I am going to write an alternative to it, for those that prefer a more serious approach. The only problem is I've been on all of one date with someone I wasn't already with, and it was disastrous. So, if anyone wants to let me know what they wanna see with that, a review or a pm would be very much appreciated!**

 **Fourth(ly..?), this prompt is a request from a reader, so I hope I do it justice! I'll be honest, I've been kind of avoiding more canon-based shorts, just because it's been YEARS since I read the HP series, so forgive me if the story's a little less than 100% accurate. This one is for you, stellasenzacielo!**

 **Lastly, I didn't mean for this update to take so long! I tried replacing my "ANNOINCEMENTS" chapter with this one, but for some reason it didn't go through. I only realized when I went to check a detail in this chapter that it never actually got replaced. I do apologize to anyone looking forward to an update, but for what it's worth, the next chapter should be out sooner than expected as a result.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **!**

Colors were a privilege that few were given. For most, the world was black and white. Or, black, white, and varying shades of gray, would be a better explanation.

It wasn't always like this, if a child grew up on the same fairy tales Hermione did, then they'd hear that people used to see the world in dazzling shades of color, and not said varying shades of gray Hermione had grown up with.

Long ago, in the times of kings and knights, people saw the world in every shade imaginable. But, according to the tales, the joy began to fade, as people married for politics and sales over genuine love and affection. Because really, who needed to love their husband or wife if marrying them made one rich?

Over time, the color began to fade out of view. It was still there, of course; the few that were meant for one another, who had already laid eyes on the person they truly loved, saw no changes. It was as if meeting the one who could make a person their happiest opened the world for them.

People still married for convenience, however. That would never change. From muggles who hadn't found their other half and didn't want to be alone forever, to purebloods still lost in a tradition that probably outdated time itself, it's always easiest to follow a rule or to latch onto another lost soul than it is to delve into matters of the heart.

Not for Hermione, however. She was born in a muggle home, with her mother and father being soulmates.

For the young witch, seeing the smiles on her parents' faces was enough to tell her that she couldn't settle for anyone other than who she was meant for.

Her mother would patiently try to describe colors for her as she sat in her lap, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as if she could will away the bleak gray that dominated her life.

She was told that she had brown hair, with hazel eyes and skin that wasn't too tanned, and wasn't too pale. She was told that her favorite book had a red cover, and the title, Hogwarts: a History, shimmered gold on the front. She was told that her mother had beautiful eyes, and the first time her father looked into them, the gray washed away like rainwater down a storm drain.

When she asked if he was afraid of the world going back to black and white, as it did when someone's soulmate died, he gave her a sad smile before responding.

"Hermione, I wake up every day terrified that I'll open my eyes and see nothing. Not because of the color, but because I'll know with absolute certainty that the love of my life is gone."

it had been a lot for the young witch to hear at such a young age, but being the intelligent child she was, the only child understood.

Hermione's problem now was that she was tired of being told. She'd wanted to meet her other half for most of her life, and as she approached her final two years of Hogwarts, with a crazed dark wizard threatening the safety of the world and war looming over their heads, it seemed like she'd die never seeing the world in color.

But, as her two best friends dragged her along to their latest mission, Hermione felt as if something momentous would happen.

After all, it isn't every day one finds out their soulmate is a deatheater old enough to be their mother.

 **!**

Harry had gotten a vision earlier, of his godfather being in danger at the Department of Mysteries, and banded together every friend he had at Hogwarts to help. The six of them stood in a circular formation, with Harry being in front, Hermione and Ron on either side of him, and Neville, Ginny, and Luna guarding the rear.

They stood in a crossroad in the maze-like passages that ran through the shelves of the department, lined with thousands upon thousands of small orbs that held prophecies unknown to most of the wizarding world.

Harry had found his earlier, knowing that Voldemort wanted it, therefore it'd be a useful bargaining chip.

"Where's Sirius?"

Harry's voice cut through the dark atmosphere of the Department of Mysteries, feeling a presence coming from in front of him. The six raised their wands, the light coming from their tips the only thing that illuminated the massive chamber.

A figure began to approach, and the rhythmic tapping of expensive shoes against the stone floor only helped to set Hermione's nerves on edge. He wore expensive black dress robes, and his deatheater's mask glinted dangerously in the wand-light.

The figure didn't seem bothered in the slightest by six teenagers trying to play hero, wands held before them like an illuminated shield. He kept approaching, and the sound of his own wand being drawn reminded the bright witch of a swordsman pulling his favorite longsword from its sheathe.

"You know, you should really learn to tell the difference between dreams..."

His voice sounded warped and twisted, as if the mask projected who the person was wearing it. The _tap tap tapping_ of the figure's feet slowed, and with a flourish of his wand, Lucius Malfoy's face appeared, the mask melting off in a whisp of black smoke. He stopped a few yards away from the teenagers' protective circle.

"...and reality."

A shiver ran through the group, everyone readjusting the grip on their wands as the gravity of the situation fell on them.

Here they were, six fifth-years with barely any experience in magic compared to Hogwarts graduates, going up against the massive force of dark magic that was Voldemort. It was like they were children who'd declared war on a country, trying to fight guns and knives with sticks and stones.

"You saw only what the dark lord wanted you to see."

Lucius' eyes flitted to the orb in Harry's hands. It glowed ever so slightly at the boy's touch, and Hermione could see the silent standoff between boy and man.

"Give me the prophecy."

"If you do anything to us I'll break it."

The word we're out of Harry's mouth almost before the elder Malfoy had a chance to finish. His grip tightened on the orb, but his eyes remained trained on the deatheater before him, mouth set in a determined frown.

Before either of them could respond, a noise echoed throughout the chamber. It was a laugh, no, a giggle. An insane giggle, one that bounced around Hermione's brain and had her heart racing.

"He knows how to play!"

She looked to the ground slightly behind Lucius as a second set of footsteps approached, heavier and more authoritative than the previous deatheater's had been.

"Itty..."

Hermione's eyes moved on from their fixation on the newcomer's boots, and slowly drifted up, noting the slight rips in the skirt that covering legs that stepped with an eerie fluidity.

"Bitty..."

A corset was tied around the witch's torso, accenting her curves, and from where she stood Hermione could see the woman idly twirling her wand in the air. It seemed as if her body couldn't keep still, she moved about like a livewire, yet had a feline grace that enthralled her.

" _Baby..._ "

Hermione's traitorous gaze wouldn't listen to her brain as she fought to look anywhere but the woman. They followed up a tantalizing neckline, hesitating on plump lips and a beautifully angular face, to eyes that she was sure could suck the life out of her with a glance.

"Potter."

The way the woman spat the last word, like a lazy insult thrown in a schoolyard, made Hermione realize that she hadn't even noticed the others, her sole fixation on The Boy Who Lived. Her conscious found itself relieved, but there was an underlying emotion that almost felt like...jealousy?

"Bellatrix Lestrange." Neville said the name that was on the tip of Hermione's tongue, and memories of looking at her pictures in _The Prophet_ came forth: eyes wild, a silent scream at whoever was taking the picture, broken teeth, hollowed cheeks, an air of true madness surrounding her.

This figure before her wasn't the same Bellatrix the ministry wanted the world to see. The ministry wanted everyone to see a crazy woman. One that, without her wand, was just capable of screaming incoherently and allowing herself to fall into such a state of disrepair.

No, the figure in front of her was equal parts beauty and madness. She'd retained the beauty she had to have had through Azkaban, even restored it, if the white, sharp looking teeth that gleamed back at them had anything to say. Her cheeks were still hollow, but they gave her face a sort of dangerous beauty, the kind only achievable by living through something truly awful.

It was her eyes that truly reeled her in. They had a sort of madness in them that Hermione couldn't help but feel drawn to.

"Neville Longbottom, is it?" Hermione was thrown out of her thoughts by the voice that had her stuck to the ground immediately.

The woman smiled knowingly as she looked from behind Lucius to the taller boy in the back.

"How's mum and dad?" Bella's smile turned to one of pure smugness, and Hermione could feel the anger radiating from behind her.

He stepped forward, pushing Hermione back and gritting his teeth. "Better now that they're about to be avenged!"

He pointed his wand at Bellatrix, who had her's trained on him in an instant. She looked down her nose at him, as if he were nothing more than a pest to be disposed of.

Hermione and Harry grabbed hold of Neville to ensure he didn't put everything in jeopardy. Lucius put his hands out in a calming motion, and it was then that Hermione felt the charged atmosphere of the room.

"Let's everybody just calm down, shall we?" He said slowly, in his lilted version of speaking that Hermione assumed was his attempt at a soothing tone.

"All we want is the prophecy." Bellatrix slowly lowered her wand, continuing to level Neville with her gaze. Hermione knew that Neville was angry, she could feel how tense his body was, but he slowly relaxed and squeezed one of Hermione's hands in reassurance.

She wanted that gaze to fall to her. Hermione had no idea why, but every second Bellatrix wouldn't look at her was a second too long.

"Why did Voldemort need Harry to get the prophecy? Why not grab it himself?" Hermione hadn't realized it was her speaking until Bellatrix had spoken.

"You dare speak his name?" Her voice was barely a whisper, and time seemed to slow as that gaze she was so fixated on finally met her own.

" _You filthy mudblood!_ " Hermione didn't even register the insult.

So suddenly that Hermione nearly dropped to her knees, the gray all around her seemed to melt away. Even in the dimly lit chamber they found themselves in, Hermione saw everything around her slowly fill with color.

No matter how beautiful it was, the fifth year couldn't tear her focus from the woman in front of her. It seemed as if Bellatrix felt it too. The snarl she had still worn after the insult hurled towards Hermione morphed into a mix of emotions all once for a split second, then the dark witch straightened her spine and settled on a look of unreadable contempt.

Hermione knew that she saw it too. She just didn't know how Bellatrix had taken it.

Lucius seemed oblivious. "It's alright, she's just a curious lass, aren't you?"

His piercing gaze leveled on her, and that normally made the younger witch feel like she was under a microscope. But for this moment, it didn't even register to her; she was too caught up in her own mind.

 _My soulmate's a deatheater..._

 _My soulmate is a_ deatheater...

 _My soulmate's a_ bloody deatheater!

A feeling of being watched crawled over her skin, and she turned to the side as more deatheaters began to close in.

"A prophecy can only be retrieved by those about whom they are made."

Her grip on her wand tightened, though her hand was shaking too hard for it to look intimidating. It was a shame, really, that she was finally able to see color, and she might not live to see another day.

She halfway registered Neville stepping beside her, the hand not holding his wand clapping her on the shoulder. Lucius was walking towards Harry, but Hermione focused more on the dark shadow that followed behind.

 _Bellatrix..._

"Now!" Harry's shout jarred her from her thoughts. She'd almost forgotten that they'd had a half-formed plan.

"Stupify!" Six voices shouted in unison.

 **!**

Hermione didn't remember much of what happened after that. Flashes of smoke, running, falling, an archway, and more smoke.

The predicament she found herself in now, a wand digging into the flesh under her chin belonging to one Bellatrix Lestrange, was one of both pleasure and sweet torture.

Bellatrix and the other deatheaters had grabbed the rest of their impromptu squadron and held them at wandpoint as Lucius tried to convince Harry to hand over the prophecy.

The others looked afraid for their very lives, while Hermione was almost glad this happened. She wasn't an imbecile; one does not get the title of Brightest Witch of Her Age if she is not, indeed, the brightest witch of her age. She knew that trying to engage in any sort of relationship with Bellatrix Lestrange was surely bound for disaster.

But that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy the feeling she got from being pressed against the woman. If Hermione pretended hard enough, she could convince herself that the wand wasn't there, that the hand that wrapped itself around her waist did so protectively, that the woman behind her wouldn't kill her in a second for her serpent of a lord.

While Lucius and Harry traded barbs, Hermione summoned up her courage. If she was going to die, might as well have one conversation with the woman whom she was destined for.

"Do you see it too?" She asked quietly.

Bellatrix's grip on her waist tightened. "See what, _filth_?"

It was meant to sting, to shut her up, but Hermione caught the way her voice wavered.

"You know what it means, Bellatrix."

"Speak again and I will charm your tongue to the roof of your mouth. Say my name again and I'll rip it out barehanded."

Hermione fell silent. She wasn't afraid of Bellatrix per se, but she also knew that Bellatrix was stubborn, and that she would always choose the dark lord over anyone else.

"Then at least my last spoken word would be a thing of beauty." She said quietly.

The dark witch's grip on her tightened, but her tongue remained safely in her mouth, uninhibited. She counted it as a small victory.

The hand around her waist snaked it's way into her hair, pulling it harshly to expose her neck. It was only then that she began to tune into what was happening.

Harry glared at the small orb in his hand as if it were Voldemort himself. His stormy eyes had grown into full blown hurricanes, as if he had to make a choice between the bloody prophecy they'd risked their lives for, or save his friends.

"Give the prophecy to me, or watch your friends die." Lucius had a way of practically purring the words that set Hermione on edge.

Oh.

She looked around the cavern they'd fallen into, and saw her friends all held at wandpoint by a deatheater, all in similar positions. Their colorful faces were set in what they hoped to be grim determination, but Hermione could see the pure terror in their eyes.

 _We're all just children,_ Hermione thought to herself. _We should be back at Hogwarts, lamenting over the latest Potions essay, for Merlin's sake!_

 _But, I suppose, there are no children in war._

"Don't do it Harry!" Neville's shout made Hermione realize that The Boy Who Lived was currently shooting daggers at Lucius' face, though the prophecy inched ever closer to the pureblood's outstretched palm.

A wet crunch echoed throughout the chambers, and Neville's nose became bloody and bent. The man holding him, Rodolphus Lestrange, grinned as he wiped blood off of the butt of his wand on the Gryffindor's tie.

It was then that Hermione remembered.

Rodolphus Lestrange.

Bellatrix Lestrange.

Her soulmate was married.

It was also then that a jet of bright light entered the cavern, startling the deatheaters. It grew darker, and more humanoid, until it became a man.

Sirius Black.

He appeared a few feet away from Harry and Lucius, and as the others looked on, too shocked to move, he walked forward until he was standing right in front of the Malfoy patriarch.

"Leave my godson alone." He spoke calmly. His hand formed a fist, and he came across Lucius' face with the ferocity of a champion boxer. He stumbled back, and the prophecy slipped out of his hands.

It landed on the ground and shattered into a million pieces. Lucius stared down at it, horrified.

Meanwhile, more and more bright lights began showing up. Some of them began to take shape, revealing their saviors as The Order of the Phoenix. They distracted the deatheaters in the room long enough for the students in their grasp to break free.

Then, all hell broke loose.

Spells flew through the air at lightning speeds, and Hermione was too awestruck by the brilliant flashes of color to do more than defend herself.

How she wished she knew the names of any of the colors.

As the chaos unfurled, it became obvious that the Order would win. However, it didn't mean the deatheater's wouldn't put up a fight. She saw Sirius dueling with Rodolphus, only to trip over the rubble that surrounded them. He began to fall into whatever void the archway led to, surely meaning instant death.

Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but as Hermione's eyes found Bellatrix once more, she saw the witch hesitate for only a second before sending a stinging hex his way. The spell was enough to incapacitate the animagus, but the force of the shot knocked Sirius away from the void. Instead, his head hit a large stone by the archway; a sickening _crack_ echoed through the chamber, and the dark witch disappeared into the fray once more.

She'd tried to find Bellatrix again, but the dark witch seemed to have vanished. As more and more of The Order began to appear, many more of Voldemort's soldiers began apparating away until all remaining were unconscious. They were soon taken into custody.

"What on earth were you thinking, Harry?" Sirius looked and sounded like a fretting mother, checking his godson for injuries while scolding him for his brash decisions. His head was bleeding from the impact of the rock, and his face looked almost unrecognizable, but Sirius Black was alive.

"I thought they'd captured you..." he said hesitantly, his eyes downcast.

"And you didn't think to just owl me?"

"I tried contacting you! Kreacher said you weren't there. I thought you'd be dead by the time I got there! I...I just..."

Harry ran a hand through his hair and pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. He couldn't meet his godfather's gaze.

"I thought I'd have to bury another father."

Sirius' anger left his features, and he pulled Harry into a fatherly embrace.

"Well, I'm very decidedly not dead, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't make me have to bury my godson any time in the near future."

Hermione smiled at the exchange. Though her mind was still reeling from everything, and her brain still couldn't process all of the new colors around her, she was happy that at least Harry had Sirius.

"Well, I s'pose this means we'll be going back to Hogwarts." Ron stepped up beside her, hands thrusted into the pockets of his bloodied pants.

Everyone looked worse for wear. Neville's nose was definitely broken, and the whimper Hermione heard escape his mouth when she healed it broke her heart. Everyone else had around the same sort of injuries: Luna's arm was broken, but it sounded like she was more worried about the nargles that had been stealing her books than the appendage, Ron sported a black eye, swollen shut and looking a very angry shade of... _something_ , and the rest had various cuts and bruises all over their bodies.

All except Hermione. Bellatrix hadn't hurt her.

What did it mean?

 **!**

Bellatrix stood in the study at Lestrange Manor, angrily pacing back and forth in front of the large fireplace she'd lit. Her mind was awash with emotion. The mudblood, the one who looked at Bellatix like a lovesick puppy in the middle of battle, could not leave her mind.

On top of it, the filthy little mudblood had to go and make herself Bellatrix's soulmate! The _audacity_!

Sure, the world was infinitely more beautiful in color than black and white, and the little thing could be cute, were she not disgustingly muggle. And sure, perhaps in a different world, if Bellatrix hadn't married Rodolphus, if the dark lord hadn't approached her nearly fourteen years ago, fresh out of Hogwarts and a year into a loveless, pureblood marriage, if she were to find herself in a different universe, perhaps the filthy thing could have a chance with the dark witch.

But Bellatrix was a pureblood with pureblood beliefs. She wasn't about to leave her husband, or her great and powerful lord, to go gallivanting about with a teenaged witch who just so happened to make the world colorful for the first time in the witch's thirty two years of life.

No, she'd see her mission through to the end. Sacrifices must be made so that the purity of the wizarding world was protected.

Still, Bellatrix thought to herself, the mudblood seemed rather... _receptive_...to this bond that had awakened. Maybe, just maybe, she could get in close with this Granger filth, and use her to the raven haired witch's advantage.

 _Yes_ , she agreed silently with her thoughts, _little muddy could be useful._

 **!**

 **Hey all! I think that's where I'm gonna end it for now. It's not over! Next chapter will be a part two to this, but I have a feeling this one's gonna be a long one, and I want to really take my time and make this as thoroughly entertaining as I can. I enjoyed this prompt, and I want to make sure I do it justice.**

 **Prompt: "Since she could remember, Hermione's world had always ever been in black and white. That is until the battle in the Department of Mysteries when, after laying eyes on Bellatrix Lestrange, she suddenly starts to see colours. The same thing happens to Bellatrix."**

 **Like I said, I really liked this prompt. I've been wanting to write a short story that follows the books a little more, but I had no idea how I was going to incorporate some bellamione. This gave me a marvelous opportunity, and I can't wait for you all to read the next installment!**

 **Also, I'm thinking about starting an informal upload schedule. So, check in every ten days or so, and I'll** **totally** **try to have one up then.**

 **I hope you all liked it, and the next chapter will be coming soon!**


	8. Black and White Part II

**Yikes so it's been over a month since I've updated and that's not cool.**

 **You know who does that?**

 **Shitty fan fiction writers.**

 **A lot has happened in the month or so I've been gone. I quit my job, had an all out war in my house with my family, went to South America, and some other shit.**

 **Anyways, I feel like all these author's notes are always apologizing for my late updates, so I'm just gonna stop.**

 **Followers of my writing should know by now I'm really bad about this.**

 **Seriously I have a couple stories that I haven't updated in years.**

 **Whoops.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **ALSO THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GORE SO YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED OKAY GOODBYE**

 **!**

Hermione lay under a beautiful oak tree, the night sky in full view between the full leaves. She took in the sight of it all, having started learning all of the colors' names.

Blue, for the deep sea above her.

White, for the twinkling stars that swirled around this ocean.

Beyond the reach of the lightening bugs surrounding her, blackness, that she couldn't quite get her mind off of.

It was all an illusion, of course. Hermione took to sleeping in the Room of Requirement. It knew that she needed...required, so to speak, a safe, private place to wrap her mind around these colors. Night time was good for now, because the black was still there, something she could turn to when things got overwhelming.

The downside was that Hermione couldn't get her mind off of Bellatrix. It would've been a stereotype of love to say that Hermione couldn't _breathe_ without her, but she couldn't help feeling an overwhelming sorrow at the thought of the darker witch.

They would always be on opposite sides of this battle between good and evil.

They would never switch sides for one another, because they both truly believed in their cause.

And one of them would die at the hands of the other, because in the end, one side had to win eventually.

The young Gryffindor sighed, and leaned her head against the oak tree. She wondered, for a moment, how the soulmates of famous murderers felt. How a reporter scheduled to interview someone like Jeffery Dahmer, or Ed Gein, or even Albert Finch felt when they stepped into the room, made eye contact with one of these truly abhorrent monsters, and suddenly their world exploded in sickly, vibrant color?

Would they grow to detest the colors, or would they embrace them for what they were? Is that love any less innocent than that of two young teenagers on their first date? And worse, would they look forward to the day they lost the color from their world, because that meant the monster they were tied to was dead? Or would they have been _so_ happy to see something that wasn't the same bleak, boring smattering of gray, that they fought to keep them alive?

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle at her own thoughts. Truly, a young witch, barely old enough to _drive_ , should not have to be shouldered with such a monstrous weight. The _literal_ weight of the world, seeing as she was the smartest out of her best friends, and it was apparently up to children to save the entire wizarding world.

A twig snapping somewhere in the distance made Hermione's eyes refocus. She didn't recall The Room of Requirement creating any animals, besides the lightning bugs, for her to see. Surely, it was just a trick of the mind.

Another snap had Hermione reaching for her wand, only to find it missing, the grass that was cushioning it abandoned. When she looked closer, she could see that there was a small indent where it used to be.

She turned back to her front, panic setting in, to find the illuminated tip of her own wand staring her in the face.

"Dragon heartstring, eh?" Hauntingly familiar eyes found hers, while that same voice made her feel both warm to the touch, and gut wrenchingly terrified.

"Looks like mud can pick a good wand, at least." From beyond the pale glow of her wand, Hermione watched dangerous eyes dance in the light, a wide smile on Bellatrix's features.

"Lovely to see you, too." She managed to choke out, pressing her back against the oak tree. She refused to drop her gaze, however. If the dark lord's first lieutenant was going to kill her, she stare the woman down defiantly until her last breath.

The silence between them was tense, and Hermione wondered idly if Bellatrix would kill her outright, or toy with her a bit.

The other witch seemed to be reading something on Hermione's face, as if she had words tattooed to her forehead.

Unexpectedly, she simply dropped the wand back into her lap, and turned away.

It took her a few seconds to process what had happened, but when her brain finally caught up to her, the Gryffindor stared at the intruder, astonishment plain to see on her face.

Bellatrix said nothing, instead staring off into the night, her back to Hermione.

"I-I'm sorry, what's happening right now? Am I dreaming? Or dead?" The younger woman couldn't help but ask.

"Not dead, although that could be arranged." The only acknowledgment from the standing witch was a slight turn of the head.

She decided then that it would be best to let Bellatrix break the silence.

Hermione sat for what felt like hours, eventually growing bored of waiting. She used her wand to conjure little otters, much like her patronus, and they swam in the air around her. They're utter happiness to be around made her a bit sad that they disappeared, but in the end, she supposed they were just another spell.

"I should've killed you, you know."

The statement made the little figures die rather quickly, and she looked to Bellatrix, who was still standing.

"I should've taken that wand and obliterated you. Skinned you alive, peeled back every layer of mud until there was nothing left."

Hermione unconsciously drew her legs back to her body, as if cradling herself would keep her safe.

"Why _didn't_ you?" Her voice was barely a whisper, as if anything louder would break the unspoken truce they shared.

Bellatrix was silent once more, and Hermione was sure she hadn't heard her, until a voice barely louder than her own answered back.

"My sister. Andromeda."

Hermione's brows disappeared into her hairline. Whatever answer she expected, it was certainly dwarfed by this revelation. She stayed quiet, hoping that if she waited, Bellatrix would elaborate.

She didn't have to wait long. The darker witch turned to her with an unreadable expression, turmoil seen in her dark eyes.

"Before she left, she painted me a picture. Said that she'd met her soulmate. She told me it was something beautiful, but until I met my other half, I'd only see a blank canvas."

Her face had taken a faraway look, and she slowly moved to sit beside the younger witch on the grass. Bellatrix absentmindedly ripped up pieces of grass as she spoke, as if focusing on destroying something rather than opening up.

"I'd never believed her. I tried every spell to make the image appear, then checked numerous times to see if there even was an image to see. Every time, every bit of magic I used, simply told me it was a blank canvas."

Bellatrix turned back to Hermione suddenly, and the other girl jumped, unaware of the dreamlike state her voice had put her into. Her dark eyes bore into Hermione's, but she couldn't look away. It was as if there was a beam shooting directly into her brain through those eyes, and the image was painted into her mind.

 _A blank canvas in Bellatrix's hands for years, frustration etched on marble features, growing deeper as the years passed._

"Finally, I just put the thing away, and focused on my sham of a marriage, and a year later, my lord."

 _Cut to Bellatrix attending boring soirée after boring soirée with her 'beloved', hiding her yawns behind glasses of champagne. At one of these, Hermione wagered, she met her lord, and the rest was history._

"But then I saw you, my...soulmate." A break from the story for her to look away once more.

"A mudblood, of all things. And quite the _muddy_ one at that."

"I'm right here, you know." Hermione snapped.

"I know."

A twinkle in her eye, that tiny spark of amusement the brunette saw, was enough to keep her silent. For _now._

"I _finally_ saw colors. But, what's more, I _finally_ saw how gaunt my comrades look, how pale and deteriorated they seem. It's as if the burden of dark magic weighs on them each and every day. I wonder how many follow out of belief, and how many out of fear."

Something in these words caused a flash of emotion to run through Bellatrix's features, but Hermione didn't know what it could be.

She cursed herself for having boys as friends. Surely, if she was around more women, she'd be able to read people better.

"But I digress. Anyhow, I pulled the thing from storage the day after all of this, and finally saw it. The colors."

Bellatrix had stopped now, and turned away from her companion once more. Hermione wished she'd go on, wished she wouldn't have to pry to find out the image.

But the other witch remained silent.

She worried her lower lip as the seconds ticked by, wondering what the image could've been. Perhaps her face? Or a portrait of a beautiful rainbow?

Whatever it was, Bellatrix wasn't saying. Mind made up, Hermione decided it was a secret for another day.

She truthfully had no idea why the dark witch would seek her out in the middle of the night, in a place where she could easily be blasted off the face of the earth by Dumbledore himself, just to tell her a story about a painting. Come to think of it, how did Bellatrix even know she'd be here?

"Bellatrix'-"

"I want to switch sides."

It came out before Hermione could even process what she was going to say.

The Brightest Witch of Her Age sat there, mouth open, shock evident on her face.

Never, not in a _million years_ , would she _ever_ think the words would ever leave the raven haired woman's lips. She wasn't even sure Bellatrix knew how to use them together in a sentence.

"I-I'm sorry?" She sputtered out, not even sure she'd caught it.

"I...I don't want to fight against you, Hermione. I've spent my entire adult life living for someone else." She ran a hand through dark locks, and her companion idly wondered how she'd managed that without getting stuck.

"I just want to be happy."

 **!**

"Wailing wombats."

Bellatrix stood next to her companion, her smirk hidden, along with the rest of her. After all of those feelings were spat up, the witch next to her was putty in her hands.

They'd talked a few more times after that, and Hermione finally approached her tonight and asked her if she trusted her.

"Of course, pet." She'd replied, noticing how the corner of the girl's mouth would turn up ever so slightly at terms of endearment.

She'd produced an invisibility cloak, one that she'd said belonged to Harry, and instructed Bellatrix to pull it on and follow her.

It was a bit small on her, and she found herself stooping to avoid having phantom feet walking the halls, but it had been worth it.

Now, the two stood outside of the open door to the headmaster's office.

This was the last obstacle. The last loose end in her dark lord's plan to manipulate this bond.

 ** _Flashback!_**

 ** _"My lord." Bellatrix bowed deeply, and waited until He gave her permission to right herself._**

 ** _"Relax, Bellatrix, and tell me what's so important that you must interrupt my...discussion...with this young muggle here?" He'd hissed out, his voice smooth, yet biting to the core._**

 ** _There was a young man laying on the ground, blood surrounding him, yet no mark on his body. The blood loss was evident, however, in the paleness of his face, and the shivering of his sweaty body, though it was fairly warm in the room. He wore rags that looked like they used to be clothes, but were torn and slashed in so many places, they covered few things._**

 ** _He looked up at her, or her general direction, as his eyes had been plucked out of his skull._**

 ** _"Kill m-me...please god...kill me..." He rasped out, and Bellatrix swallowed the bile that had wormed its way up her throat. She thought of her family, and why she was doing all of this, which made it a little easier to cope._**

 ** _Still, she kept her eyes pointedly on her lord._**

 ** _"My lord, I have a bond with someone from the light." She replied, choosing her words carefully._**

 ** _He cocked his head to the side. "A bond? What sort of bond?"_**

 ** _"A soulmate. Be not afraid, my lord, my loyalty lies with you, which is why I'm telling you this now. I thought it might be of use to you."_**

 ** _He seemed to mull over these words before replying. "Perhaps. It would have to be one of the more malleable of the light. If not, it is of no use to me."_**

 ** _"It is Hermione Granger, sir."_**

 ** _Voldemort laughed then, a low, wispy sound that reminded Bellatrix of wind passing through an abandoned house._**

 ** _"Then I have no use for this bond. The girl might be a filthy mudblood, but she's too smart, too loyal, her blood too polluted, to be persuaded to the other side."_**

 ** _He scowls then, and silently raises his wand. She knew she'd suffer hours of torture alongside the doomed muggle if she didn't fix this, so with her hands raised defensively, she spoke quickly._**

 ** _"No my lord please! I know how to break her! To mold her to my whims!"_**

 ** _His wand paused in the middle of motion, but didn't lower._**

 ** _"Speak."_**

 ** _Bellatrix breathed a sigh of relief, but knew that it wasn't over. A dry tongue attempted to wet equally dry lips as she tried to hide how badly she shook in her lord's angry presence._**

 ** _"My lord, from what the reports on her say, she's quite intelligent. It is true that she would not be imperiused into servitude, nor could she be convinced through torture. But," she said the last word quickly, as she saw the impatience growing in her lord's eyes._**

 ** _"But, she would be lonely. She's the female best friend of two males, who spend more time around one another naturally than with her. Without the two of them, she has practically no one, save for a few acquaintances. Aside from a small romance that was quickly ended, she's had no romantic encounters. What she wants, my lord, is love."_**

 ** _He paused for a moment to let the implications of what she'd said sink in, then a slow smile spread across his features._**

 ** _"I see what you're suggesting, Bellatrix, and I must say, it is quite ingenious. Yes, it would make sense for her to seek love. The filth might be smart, but in the end, teenage hormones must also have a say, from time to time."_**

 ** _"My thoughts exactly, my lord." She felt like a weight was lifted off her shoulders, which was the reason she was caught off guard by the sudden slicing motion of his wand, and the wet noise the muggle's body made as it was sliced in two._**

 ** _"Now that he's been taken care of, come, my most loyal. Plans are to be made, and we must go about this carefully to ensure all goes well."_**

 ** _End Flashback!_**

And all had gone well, indeed.

They made their way to the headmaster's office, which was just as infuriatingly warm and cozy as she'd last remembered.

Though it was a late hour, Dumbledore sat at his desk, a tea set in front of him. He regarded the two witches with a smile, as if Bellatrix were merely a student, or an old friend.

"Ah, Hermione! Bellatrix! Lovely to see you two." He motioned for them to sit, and the both of them hesitantly did.

Bellatrix instantly put her walls up, and began planting false memories in her mind should he break out, thoughts of her not telling her lord, and instead laying in bed, pondering what to do.

"Dumbledore. You're looking as...well, you've looked the same for almost thirty years."

The old man smiled widely, and began pouring tea for the three of them. "Well, I suppose you could say I've aged gracefully, though with this beard, I'm not quite sure."

He passed the cups to the two witches opposite him, and leaned back in his chair with his own.

"But, I'm sure you aren't here to discuss my ever graceful aging process. What can I do for you two?"

Bellatrix took a deep breath, and recited the phrase she'd been working on by herself for a few days.

"I want to be a spy for The Order. I want to stop Voldemort."

 **!**

 **Aaaaaand I'm gonna end it there. It's getting really long, and I still have so much to write! If it gets any longer than three chapters, I might just take it down from here and make it it's own story, if that's alright with all of you.**

 **I decided to try a few things with this story. I don't think I've written anything from Bellatrix's point of view, but that's mostly because I identify with Hermione more, and I'm not really sure how to capture the Bellatrix essence.**

 **I also wrote for both Dumbledore and Voldemort. I like to think my Voldemort was pretty okay, though I may decide differently when I go back and proof read.**

 **My Dumbledore, I feel, needs a lot of work, but I do hope that the three people still reading this will bear with me!**

 **I don't mean to say that in a negative sense, by any means. I'm not here for readers or reviews, though I do much appreciate them! I'm here because I love these prompts, and I love getting them off of my brain and into a community full of well written stories, but awfully small compared to the rest of the fandoms in the HP series. In other words, the more the merrier!**

 **Lastly, I believe that, for the next couple of weeks at least, I'll have a steady sort of flow here. I need to write the next part to this chapter, but I have another prompt that I've already almost finished waiting after that.**

 **(I said lastly but I lied) someone once asked me, "who would you ship besides your otps?"**

 **Well, I love making all of my favorite characters very, very gay. But if I couldn't, I think Neville and Hermione would be adorable.**

 **That is all.**

 **Bye!**


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